Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling.
Moonlight beamed upon a marble table stacked with pies, cakes, cookies and an uncountable number of gelatins. Each pie was baked in its own unique way, some filled with apple sauce, while others were filled with cinnamon, chocolate and even strawberry jam. The cakes were covered in a thick layer of creamy chocolate icing, delicious to the last spoonful. The cookies were tender and chewy, while the gelatin was stacked into such a wondrous form. Pleasant smells wafted into the silent night sky, stirring creatures of the wood in their sleep. Not far away, a slender girl with a cloud of dark silky hair gazed dreamily at the feast. I recognized her: no, not through appearance. Though she was everything I am not, from her fair skin to her dainty feet, something inside me just told me that this girl was me. Slowly, my feet dragged towards the table, while I eyed an egg-tart wearily. My stomach rumbled, and with fear, I realized that I hadn't eaten in days. One porcelain hand reached out, seizing the delicacy. I shivered in delight as I gently brought the creamy tart to my ruby lips. I could just about taste custard exploding in my mouth. It was 3 centimeters away. Just a tiny bit closer …
RING RING BRRRRING!
Oh darn, stupid alarm clock! Couldn't you just wait until I sampled that tart! You idiotic little piece of yellow plastic! What the heck is your problem! Thoughts exploded in my head as I realized that it was merely 7:00 in the morning. Silly of me to blame a unanimous object – but I was hungry! I was three days into my "dieting plan" – which, in case you were wondering, i did not set. Who in their right mind would happily go on a diet? The answer would be, of course, nobody. At least, nobody who cares about food as much as I do. Oh, then who did? Who set that horribly frustrating diet for me? MY PARENTS, who else? Kind, gentle Mr. and Mrs. Evans, who supposedly care the world about their two dear daughters, set that 'little' program. Well, maybe they care about Lily. Perfect little Lily, who has perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect manners, perfect EVERYTHING! Well, I'm sorry, Mom and Dad. I'm sorry that I'm not Lily. I'm sorry that I'm plump and that I can never wake up on time, and that I couldn't be tidy to save my life. I'm sorry that I'm failing most subjects at school. I'm sorry that I'm IMPERFECT. I'm sorry, will you accept me now?
My thoughts wandered uncontrollably as I shook the yellow alarm clock with all my might. Come to think of it, who set that alarm clock in the first place? I haven't touched it in years…
"LILY!" I screamed in rage, followed by yet a louder cry when there was no response.
"Petunia?" My twin sister stared at me from the doorway, her amber hair tied into two perfect pigtails.
"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?" I shrieked, two burning red spots appearing on my cheeks.
"What?" Lily replied innocently, her emerald eyes widened in shock.
"WHY DID YOU HAVE TO SET THAT STUPID YELLOW ALARM CLOCK!" I wailed, images of that crunchy egg-tart still flashing in my mind.
"A... Alarm clock?" Lily's voice gave away a tiny tremble. "I … I simply wanted to make sure that you got up this time. I wanted to make sure Dad and Mom didn't yell at you for missing the bus and for …"
"SHUT UP!" I screamed. "DON'T YOU THINK I'M CAPABLE OF WAKING MYSELF UP?"
I knew that the truthful answer was 'No'. No one– not even I, Petunia Evans – could deny that I was horrible at the art of waking up. It was just that look she gave me. Oh yes, Perfect Lily was being such an angel again. Perfect Lily could never let her sister get beaten by Mommy and Daddy, could she? Perfect Lily always had the most wonderful excuse for doing something evil, like depriving Petunia of sleep. Yes, perfect Lily was just so disgustingly perfect.
"Of – of course…" She responded, as she crept out of the room. "Oh, by the way, it's breakfast time."
"DO YOU REALLY THINK I CARE?" I burst, tears welling in my eyes. I threw a pillow at the 'now-closed' door. In normal circumstances, yes, I would care. With no friends, no pets and no true hobbies, savoring delicious tastes was the only thing worth living for. It was different now. My special diet allowed me only to eat fruit, vegetables and … yeah, that's about it. Each meal was torture – not only did I have to resist the urge to grab one of those juicy steaks, but I also had to put up with Mom and Dad's constant nagging:
"Petunia, what did you do to Lily?"
"Lils, dear, don't be bothered by Petunia. Here, eat up your ribs and steak. You're skinny enough."
Yes, Mom. Slender Lily, with her sparkly emerald eyes and wild red hair, is your dream-child. Nothing like me, I daresay.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I wasn't really that bad. I had fair skin and curly, dark locks. I was taller than most girls my age, which made my plumpness slightly more acceptable. It didn't hide the fact that I was overweight – it just made it easier to live with it. My eyes didn't dance with color, like Lily's. No, my eyes were like open windows, blasting my every emotion at those scarce onlookers. Sorrow and despair gleamed back at me from those dark gray eyes. The truth was staring out for those who dared to care: I needed to get away. And fast.
