Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters, settings, or anything like that. I am simply a follower of this great tale. Well, I do own the plot! I think…
P.S.
I am so sorry for the mix up with Epilogue and Prologue. Im so stupid! smacks self on head
Chapter 1
The sun rose to another perfect day. The light rose to the room in the loft of a Victorian Home. The room was filled with light as the sun rose higher. It kissed the cheek of a young girl as she disdainfully pulls back the covers over her head to block the sun.
She groans and sits up on her bed. She places two feet on her pink carpeted floor. She stands up and walks to her bathroom. She brushes her teeth with her eyes still closed.
She opens the faucet and splashes some piercing cold water onto her face. She washes her face and then wipes it clean with a towel. She looks at herself in the mirror and a frown is poured upon her lips.
She hated her image. Her hair was now so soft and had become wavy. It formed little curls at the end and there was no way to describe it but beautiful. She grabs a tiny curler and places a small portion of her hair in it. She continued this until she had done her whole head. No one knew of this. Even her parents. Both thought that that was her natural hair but she knew better. She had been doing that since she was a little girl.
She walks out of her bathroom and lies down onto her bed. She closed her eyes.
She felt herself drifting off to sleep once more when an alarm goes off. She sat up and reached over her bedside table. She grabs her silver clock and hacks it across the room.
She walks up to her full length mirror and looks at herself. She had grown very well. She now had the perfect body and she hated it. She cursed herself for jogging every morning of the summer. She had filled in exquisitely. She took of what she was currently wearing and threw over a shirt two sizes too big for her. It completely covered her. She hated showing off her body.
She checked her clock if it had smashed to bits. Disappointed, she found it still ticking on the corner of her room. She checks the time and takes off the curlers.
She took all the time in the world to take them off. She finally finished and consulted her mirror. It was back to its bushy self. She summons her wand with wandless magic and casts a charm on it to make it last until she went to sleep at night. Whenever she slept with it still curled, it always seemed to wake her by getting stuck to something and eventually hitting her head.
She goes over to her desk and opens her drawer. At first she saw pieces of parchment but when she closed it again and she taps it with her wand, a black book emerges. She smiles and opens it.
She started writing. This was her sanctuary. She loved her black book. She wrote in it all the time. She wrote poems, thoughts and quotes.
She scanned her head for another poem and smiles. She begins to write furiously.
I'm sick of the expectations
Sick of the smiles and fake adoration
Sick of the useless work i've made
I'm sick and tired of my own name
I'm sick of all the fake smiles
Sick and tired all the time
Sick of the perfect little life I led
So sick I wish I were dead
So sick of the fake people around me
Its like they have all binded me
Sick of the curse I have befallen
Sick of the times I have fallen
Sick of the times I always stood back up
I just want to always drop
No one knows how I feel
No one knows i'm not real
I'm so sick of my own fake life
Its like cant someone just grab my knife?
I'm so sick of my own self
I am my own hell
Sick of all the tremor and lies
Sick of being here all the time
Cant anyone leave me be?
I just wanna be free
Cant anyone leave me on the ground
Cant you see I don't want you around
I am so sick of hearing this
So sick of my fake bliss
So sick of the little life I led
So sick I nearly bled
I'm so sick of the way people treat me
Cant they see
I wanna fall to the ground
I don't wanna stay around
I'm so sick of the fakes and lies
I'm so sick i always cry
I'm so sick of the hurt inside
So sick I cannot abide
Cant anyone see the real me
The me that is desperate to be free
The me who always wants to fail
Just so no one would come my way
The me who doesn't want to hang around
The me who always wants to fall to the ground
I'm so sick of all the stupid lies
Cant anyone see my soul inside
Cant anyone hear my desperate calls
Cant anyone see my invisible cause
Cant anyone hear my silent cries
Cant anyone hear their own lies
Cant anyone see me through and through
Cant anyone hurt me like I did to you
I'm so sick of all these things
I cant believe this is all life will bring
I am so sick of being myself
I am so sick I am so dead
The lies, the fakes, the people mistake
The murder, the cries, the emptiness inside
Cant anyone rescue me right now
Cant anyone please not be around
Cant anyone please just leave me alone
Right here in my own little home
Where my shadows and cries are never heard
Where my own lies will be considered absurd
Cant anyone see the real me
The me who wants to be free.
She puts down her pen and closes the book. She casts a spell on it to make sure no one would be able to read it. She looks around her room and her frown looks as if it would be permanently placed there.
Her entire room was pink, purple and lilac. So girl-ish. Her white computer desk and iMac laptop on the corner of her room. Her bookcases filled with muggle and wizard books lay all over the walls. Her awards and medals from her muggle school lay on top of her dresser. She had pictures of herself and her family in almost every spare corner. It looked like it was a preppy girls' room. She hated it.
She gets up and takes a shower.
After a while, she wore black jogging pants and black sweatshirt. She ties her hair into a pony tail and walks down the stairs. She found herself alone in the house and grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. She walks out the door for her morning dash.
An hour later, she gets back to find her mother making breakfast.
"Hermione! You're back already? Well, sit down. I'll make you breakfast. Would you like bacon or pancakes?" her mother asked smiling.
"Um… Pancakes please. I'll just change my clothes. Be right back mum." She said and jogged up the stairs.
She changed her clothes to some baggy flesh colored cargo pants and grey sweatshirt.
She walked down the steps to find both her parents eating heartily.
"Hermione! Sit! We have lots to talk about…" her mother said seriously.
Authors Note:
Hey! Please review! No Flames please! And tell me if you want anything with the plot! Its not that clear yet, but its getting there.