Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own thoughts.

Author's Note- I've been having a few hard weeks, especially with two-faced jerks with egos the size of the universe. I've cried by myself over and over again, trying to stop their words from echoing in my mind. The only thing that takes it all away are the hugs I recieve. So, as to thank my friends and express my feelings at the same time, I wrote this in 10 minutes. Try not to pick at it, I understand its very vague. But I felt better after writing it. Abarraine. 17 May 2005.


This is Lily's POV.

Epiphany


This wasn't how things were supposed to go down. This just wasn't right. Where was my coach patting me on the back with a quick "nice game, couldn't have done it without you". Or where was my rambunctious friend flinging her arms around me, jumping up and down over the 'O' she got on a satanic potions essay. Most of all, where were my mum's famous oatmeal chocolate chip cookies that just brightened the day when all seemed lost and forgotten.

It was just one of those days. The days that you tick off on your calendar, hoping that tomorrow the sun will come out and bring and fresh new dawn, leaving all negativity behind. Standing alone, fogotten.. Of course tomorrow will come, but first, I have to get through this execrable day.

It was the day when you feel subhuman and all you want is to be alone; able to cry, curled up in a dark corner, wishing to never have to see another duplicitous person again.

Those moments of self-inflicted mental demoralization had passed. I realized the animosity towards me, I realized that I had to keep my stone face, cry in my solitude, and smile insanely when surrounded by my friends.

Do you ever get those days where you're just fed up with it all? All the curses, stabs in your direction because of who you are? The way they sneer, they jibe, they toss spit-wads at your turned back? The way your throat closes up, your eyes sting and you have to clamp your jaw to keep the tears and cries inside? Of course you do, but then, maybe you don't.

I'm surrounded by my friends, all of whom are clueless to my own misery. The thing is, they love me to death, they see my solemn face, my spacing out. The way I keep to myself when I'm terribly sad or angry.

They try to understand how it feels to be tormented each day, having 'mudblood' flung in your direction at every step you take, every breath you exhale. But they can't understand it. Bless their hearts, they try too. But how can a bunch of purebloods, at the high end of the food chain, understand what it's like to be dropped into a new world full of prejudices that I didn't even ask for, let alone even know about for the first ten years of my life?

So, as it turns out, I'm having a thoroughly rotten day.

I look at my laughing friends, eager for one of them to realize that I need help. Strength, comfort, anything. But after years of hiding my feelings, I suppose I could be considered a darn good actress. As I said, I don't blame them for forgetting me, even though they come to me with all their problems.

It's bitterness I hold now. Bitterness for my alienation. Bitterness for my place in this world. Bitterness towards the utopian life my friends seem to have.

I understand many things from my years of observation. I know that I must take each day as it comes. Pray to God when I'm crumbing, open up to my friends as I yearn to do, and most importantly- shove my way through the halls, head held high with determination.

They can break your heart, stomp on it, crush it with their slimy little fingers. But as much as they try to keep a hold of your heart, it keeps slipping through their fingers, beyond their reach, frustrating them.

They're screaming at you for your strength and courage. Stabbing you in the back with their icy words, mocking your every move. But that's as far as they'll get; for they can't break your will.

I used to have my heart on my sleeve for all of them to muck up, but now he's taken a hold of it and he keeps it safe in his hands. The way he hugs me from behind and I relax into his security. My heart, my soul, my will is placed in him and my friends. For they may not understand or realize my pain, they're still there. Holding my strength in their presence.

They're there with their sarcastic comments, their curses towards the people I hate, but don't have the heart to cuss out myself, the shoves to keep going, and most of all, the cookies they make just for me. The oatmeal chocolate chip comforts.


cookies are the way to go. never doubt that chocolate.

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