I
I suppose that it all started when I born on July 12 in the year of 1955. My parents, Karen and Paul Evans, named me Lily Cassandra Evans. It seemed that my parents liked flowers and old names as my older sister is Petunia Rhea. Although personally, I think I got the better end of the name deal.
My childhood, up to when I was five, consisted of playing sports, like cricket and football, with the neighborhood kids. I also played dolls, house and dress-up with my closer friends. Petunia would play with my friends and me when she felt that she could tolerate me.
My parents always told me that Petunia and I use to get along great when we were younger. But when Petunia started to go to school, we didn't get along all that well. My mom attuned it to the fact that Petunia wanted to move on and didn't want me to drag her back and I didn't want her to move on without me. My dad just said that kids would be kids and we would grow out of it when we were older. I believed him.
When I was six, I started grammar school. I loved it there. The teachers were nice and the other students were really friendly. I made a lot of close friends but still, like everyone, there were some people who just did not like me. But no one really tried to hurt me. Although when someone did try, something would happen. Usually, the person who was being mean tripped or their hair would change color overnight. I suppose that's what started the rumors. It started slowly when I was in my third year of grammar school. It started as one person who called me a witch. Said I was evil and they wanted nothing to do with me. Soon it was practically the whole school.
It was then that I realized that Petunia did not just find me annoying, she seemed to hate me. She called me freak and told me that I was ruining her life. Why couldn't I just stop being such a freak? But I couldn't stop. I didn't know how to. I didn't even know how I was doing these things in the first place.
Mom and Dad seemed to believe me, but I think that they still thought I could stop it. When Petunia would yell at me, Mom or Dad would tell her to stop. But if Petunia's hair turned green or if her bed suddenly filled with frogs, I would get an hour long lecture about how Petunia was my sister and I should treat her with love and respect.
But everything changed the day that I turned 11.
I suppose that it all started when I born on July 12 in the year of 1955. My parents, Karen and Paul Evans, named me Lily Cassandra Evans. It seemed that my parents liked flowers and old names as my older sister is Petunia Rhea. Although personally, I think I got the better end of the name deal.
My childhood, up to when I was five, consisted of playing sports, like cricket and football, with the neighborhood kids. I also played dolls, house and dress-up with my closer friends. Petunia would play with my friends and me when she felt that she could tolerate me.
My parents always told me that Petunia and I use to get along great when we were younger. But when Petunia started to go to school, we didn't get along all that well. My mom attuned it to the fact that Petunia wanted to move on and didn't want me to drag her back and I didn't want her to move on without me. My dad just said that kids would be kids and we would grow out of it when we were older. I believed him.
When I was six, I started grammar school. I loved it there. The teachers were nice and the other students were really friendly. I made a lot of close friends but still, like everyone, there were some people who just did not like me. But no one really tried to hurt me. Although when someone did try, something would happen. Usually, the person who was being mean tripped or their hair would change color overnight. I suppose that's what started the rumors. It started slowly when I was in my third year of grammar school. It started as one person who called me a witch. Said I was evil and they wanted nothing to do with me. Soon it was practically the whole school.
It was then that I realized that Petunia did not just find me annoying, she seemed to hate me. She called me freak and told me that I was ruining her life. Why couldn't I just stop being such a freak? But I couldn't stop. I didn't know how to. I didn't even know how I was doing these things in the first place.
Mom and Dad seemed to believe me, but I think that they still thought I could stop it. When Petunia would yell at me, Mom or Dad would tell her to stop. But if Petunia's hair turned green or if her bed suddenly filled with frogs, I would get an hour long lecture about how Petunia was my sister and I should treat her with love and respect.
But everything changed the day that I turned 11.
