Never wish for something you are not entirely prepared for. Life is fair,
you have the life you have because, well, because you can cope with it. As
a catholic I was raised surrounded by the 7 sins. Do not envy what the
other have. Do not disobey your parents. Do not kill. Do not, do not, do
not. All don'ts. I never really felt like I belonged to this family, my
family. I guess the cause for this was the way I was treated as the Black
Sheep. I would never have what it took to be a real blooded Plate-Morean.
That's what my father said. It seems all he could see in me was faults. The
truth is, that's how I see myself. As a fault. As a mistake. And even
though my life seemed to have changed for the best, I still feel like an
unwanted human being. I was borne to a woman and a man. I never knew their
names; all I knew was a life very different to the one I was supposed to
have. My parent's names were James Charles Plate and Pristine Charlotte
Morean. I was the last or 5 children, and the first memory I have is of my
older brother yelling at me the word 'Bastard'. I never understood why I
was so unwanted. Surely I wasn't ugly at all. Although, to them, I was.
They all had black hair and green eyes. They were all 'beautiful'. And I
was ugly, just because I had silver-white blonde hair and grey eyes. I was
beautiful to everyone but them. The real Plate-Morean.
"I wish I had my real family by my side" This was repeated over and over for the last 16 birthdays I had. It never came true, and I started to believe that my real parents were gone for good and I would be stuck with this family forever. How wrong I was.
It all started with our trip to Belgium for the winter break. We stopped at Witches for a day or two, I can't remember. And as always I had been left behind on my own. Inevitably, I got lost and ended up in a very dull neighborhood. Odd people walked down the streets holding cauldrons and owls. They were all dressed in tunics and wore pointed hats. I had a sudden feeling that I had entered a different dimension. And I was scared. Scared of the unknown. And because I was alone. I continued walking and reached the main plaza. A statue stood in the middle of it, a woman was being burned in a hood while a hawk looked from afar. A caption underneath the statue read: To those who perished under the unfairness of Muggles. While I stood there, thinking what on Earth a Muggle was an old man approached me. And I swear to the heavens I will never forget what he said to me. He said, "Sad isn't it? The way that we, witches and wizards have been chased by those who cannot understand the gift of magical powers". I cannot explain what I felt, a collision of emotions cursed through my body as this man told me witches and wizards weren't part of children stories made up to scare us. They were real. They existed.
Since that day I browsed and browsed information about Witches and magical people. I became addicted to them. I began to crave to have those extraordinary powers. I wanted those powers as bad as I wanted to meet my real parents. And suddenly, in my 16th birthday the impossible happened. I was rescued. I was told, after many years of waiting and hoping, my real name. Alexandra Victoria Malfoy.
"I wish I had my real family by my side" This was repeated over and over for the last 16 birthdays I had. It never came true, and I started to believe that my real parents were gone for good and I would be stuck with this family forever. How wrong I was.
It all started with our trip to Belgium for the winter break. We stopped at Witches for a day or two, I can't remember. And as always I had been left behind on my own. Inevitably, I got lost and ended up in a very dull neighborhood. Odd people walked down the streets holding cauldrons and owls. They were all dressed in tunics and wore pointed hats. I had a sudden feeling that I had entered a different dimension. And I was scared. Scared of the unknown. And because I was alone. I continued walking and reached the main plaza. A statue stood in the middle of it, a woman was being burned in a hood while a hawk looked from afar. A caption underneath the statue read: To those who perished under the unfairness of Muggles. While I stood there, thinking what on Earth a Muggle was an old man approached me. And I swear to the heavens I will never forget what he said to me. He said, "Sad isn't it? The way that we, witches and wizards have been chased by those who cannot understand the gift of magical powers". I cannot explain what I felt, a collision of emotions cursed through my body as this man told me witches and wizards weren't part of children stories made up to scare us. They were real. They existed.
Since that day I browsed and browsed information about Witches and magical people. I became addicted to them. I began to crave to have those extraordinary powers. I wanted those powers as bad as I wanted to meet my real parents. And suddenly, in my 16th birthday the impossible happened. I was rescued. I was told, after many years of waiting and hoping, my real name. Alexandra Victoria Malfoy.