I wish it were simple. It's not. I am the youngest of seven. They don't know how I feel, and they never will. I am but a pleasing face or a face that brings bad news. They will never know the pain I suffer through each day. What resides behind my face is something that others cannot even begin to comprehend. I feel as though the world rests on my shoulders. It is that thought that has turned me into the person I am today. I am evasive with my comments and answers to their questions. I feel like a tool. I am a tool.
With their woes they come to me. After they feel assured they leave and forget about me, only to come back when troubles arise. Those who do remember that I helped them stay in silence; they are thankful but they will never mention me to others. There are some that say I'm mad and I am; just not in the way they imagine.
I am not the most attractive person and with my new glasses I look even worse. I am not one to worry about looks, but I wish I were pretty so that they would stop teasing me. But then, they would only be nice because I'm pretty; not because they care about who I am inside. But I'll have them know that…
I, am Rosemary's granddaughter
The spitting image of my father
And my mamas still my biggest fan
Sometimes I should have said, "I'm clumsy"
But I have friends that love me
And they know just where I stand
It's all-apart of me
That's who I am…
Oh who am I kidding! My mothers not my biggest fan she is Lily's biggest fan! I don't have any friends! No one knows where I stand on issues. They couldn't care either way.
My marks are failing. My professors hate me. Well, maybe not professor Dumbledore. I really respect that man. He's so wise. But I am still scared. Something is attacking the students and everyone is frightened. Oh why couldn't the sorting hat place me in Gryffindor?! I know I'm not brave or anything but maybe just maybe I could become brave if I was in that house.
I have a cold. Madam Hess says it's nothing. Yesterday Mr. Pringle caught me walking down the hall. I swear I was just getting my D.A.D.A book! But 'nooooooo' he says 'you were out of your common room after curfew!' 'but I really needed my book sir…' 'why not borrow it then? From one of those nasty little blighters you call your friends?' 'I don't have any friends' 'HA! Likely story!' anyway he ended up hanging me by my wrists until Professor Dumbledore came in to see my crying and Mr. Pringle looking satisfied at me and told Mr. Pringle to let me down. My wrists are now sore and puffy. I can barely write. Anyway Mr. Pringle was really mad at Dumbledore and I so he goes to Headmaster Dippit. I mean come on. Well I ended up having to go see the headmaster this morning and got a good talking to as well as detention every Friday for a month. Dumbledore is in trouble too. I feel simply horrid.
I remember when I was little, when I was still excited to go to Hogwarts, I wanted to be a famous writer. I remember wanting to write about unicorns and dragons and elves. I remember telling my mom and Lily who were sitting at the table and do you know what they did? Do you? They laughed! I was crushed. I remember what they said to me. Not the words exactly but the meaning was clear: you're too dumb to do that. I went off and cried. I never mentioned it again. If I were to choose what I write about now I would most likely write about the truth. I can picture it now… Hogwarts: The Real Castle I would write about my troubles and how I see life in the castle. It would be my auto-biography and the only kind remarks directed to anybody would be about professor Dumbledore because he is always nice to me.
My childhood was filled with snide remarks and comments. I shed many tears and they only hope through the haze was that of coming to Hogwarts…
Finally I came to Hogwarts. I thought it would be a good place to make a fresh start. A place I could show them all. All my family have been placed in Gryffindor but I wasn't… "Hufflepuff!" the hat shouted. I felt hollow. I knew they would be ashamed and I was right. I got a letter telling me how disappointed they were. I was so upset after that letter that I became standoffish and by the time I got around to try to make friends I was labeled: the snob. I was hated by Slytherins, ignored by Hufflepuffs, shunned by my family, cast off by Gryffindors and forsaken by Ravenclaws.
My life is one endless cycle now. Get up, get teased, eat breakfast, get teased, go to class, get teased and so on and so forth. I feel sick and am sinking into a well of depression. Peeves, that wretched poltergeist is constantly on my case and calling me names. I hate it. I want to die.
Death. It seems too wonderful a fate to ever come true. I want to die. I hate this school and this world and I want to leave it all. It's not like anyone would miss me or care about me if I died.
Oh great! Here comes Olive Hornby! Coming to teas poor Myrtle are you?
No surprise there.
Later:
That horrible girl! She just said my glasses looked horrible and that I was an ugly girl who didn't belong in Hufflepuff and…
And…
Well just a bunch of other stuff I don't wish to repeat. Oh I'm going off to the bathroom to cry again.
I'll write later (not as if you'll care anyway), Myrtle
"Just moments ago, Dumbledore! Oh it's horrible! Poor Myrtle!" Olive Hornby sobbed, "If only I had been there sooner! She was my friend!"
I bet she was your friend Dumbledore thought irritably. Sighing he said, "someone please take Miss. Hornby up to Madam Hess, she needs some sleep."
The room's occupants were silent. Just moments before Myrtle, a third year Hufflepuff, was found dead. Attacked. By the same thing that had been attacking the school for months. Hers has been the only death. Dumbledore was the most solemn of them all. Being the only one who truly cared about Myrtle it tore a hole in his soul to learn her sad existence had ended in tragedy. She was so lonely and friendless receiving no compassion. Not even from the teachers.
A great anguish arose in him, so fierce and piercing it was like a wild animal ready to strike. Dumbledore swore that for poor Myrtle's sake he would find her attacker. Avenge her and wreak revenge on her killer.
"Dumbledore look at this!"
Dumbledore stood up and swerved around. He was certain he hadn't missed anyhing in his inspection of the crime scene.
"It's a piece of paper."
The aged professor took the paper that had come out of Myrtle's pocket and the word 'death' caught his eye. He pocketed it, vowing to read it in private.
"What is it?"
"Just transfiguration notes."
"That girl was never a thoughtful one, God rest her soul. Honestly though. She was always loosing things because she wasn't responsible enough to put things away. It's terrible to say but she probably would have lost her head if it wasn't attached."
"How can you say that? Have some respect for the dead! The girl just died! How can you say something like that?! You never took the time to get to know her. She was just a clumsy, bumbling student to you all."
No one spoke, they knew he was right.
"I'm sorry…"
Not able to be with these people another second Dumbledore gently raised Myrtle's body with his wand and floated it out of the room.
Once Myrtle was in the hospital wing he returned to his room he opened the note…
They will never know the pain I suffer through each day. What resides behind my face is something that others cannot even begin to comprehend…
I don't have any friends! …they couldn't care either way.
My professors hate me. Well, maybe not professor Dumbledore. I really respect that man; he's so wise.
. But I am still scared
Dumbledore is in trouble too. I feel simply horrid.
your too dumb to do that
the only kind remarks directed to anybody would be about professor Dumbledore because he is always nice to me.
I was hated by Slytherins, ignored by Hufflepuffs, shunned by my family, cast off by Gryffindors and forsaken by Ravenclaws.
I hate it.
I want to die.
It's not like anyone would miss me or care about me if I died.
Dumbledore just sat there. She thought I was kind, she wanted to die… He just sat there for hours. Tears started to come into his eyes then came more and more of them, running down his cheeks, his nose until he broke down and sobbed. She was so young… I am so glad I could make her feel better but it just wasn't enough…
The End
A/N I wrote this two years ago and have fixed up some of it but I'm not too happy with it. Right now I'm only waiting for some inspiration so am archiving my past fics while I work on some ideas. Tell me what you think, any suggestions you have etc. My original authors note is here just explaining history so I don't know why I'm including it. shrug
Original A/N I know it was sad. I 'm sorry but Myrtle's life was sad. I don't know what happened I just started to type nonsense that came from the far reaches of my brain and it turned into fanfic. I actually started out as Dumbledore reflecting on his life and then Myrtle, Petunia and then Myrtle again. Please review and tell me what you think. Bye.- Steph
Disclaimer: The people, places etc belong to J.K Rowling and if you have a problem with that you can go jump in a lake. Oh and the incomplete song belongs to Jessica Andrews. Thank you and goodnight