Why?

She was beautiful, No doubt about it. She had long fiery red hair that fell in soft curls sown he back and emerald eyes that sparkled with an inner light. Next to her, I wasn't just plain, with stringy, thin blond hair and weak, watery blue eyes, I was invisible. I still remember the time when we where at our grandparents. Mum was talking about how both she and my father had one good trait, my mother's fiery red hair and my dads Emerald eyes, and one bad trait, my mother's weak blue eyes and my fathers thin, stringy blond hair. Then she mentioned how lucky Lily was to have gotten all the good ones, Mums hair and dads eyes. They didn't even notice me, standing in the background, the one with the "bad" traits. Why did she have to be the beautiful one?

Lily always was the smarter one. Where I got "A's" she got "A+'s". Where I got "A+'s" she got recommended to move up a grade. The worst part was that I would spend hours studying to get that "A". Lily never studied at all. Instead, she would be with her many friends, laughing and playing. Her friends not mine. I didn't have any friends. So I stayed locked up studying while Lily was free. She got the beauty, so shouldn't I have gotten the brains?

When I was little, I always dreamed of my future. I would be whisked away to a magical castle, meet my dark haired prince charming, and we would happily ever after. So I day dreamed. And even when I stopped believing in fairytales, I still remembered that dream. Then Lily got her letter. She was whisked away to a magical castle. Learned "spells" and enchantments, and brought home stories of moving portraits and ghosts. The ones that interested me the most where the ones about the group called "the marauders" and there dark haired leader "the dirty-minded-egotistic-annoying-big-headed-prat-James-bloody-Potter" who refused to stop asking her out. It was about this time I started calling her freak and refused to talk to her. I was my dream, why was she living it out?

The Christmas of her last year at school Lily brought home a boy. Not just any boy, but "the dirty-minded-egotistic-annoying-big-headed-prat-James-bloody- Potter". He was all I ever wanted, right down to the dark hair, and she got him. That was the year Vernon proposed. He was nothing like my dream; he even had blond hair instead of dark. I said yes. It was a gaudy ring, nothing like the simple, yet gorgeous necklace and earrings James got Lily. When she heard she said her congratulations as loud as everyone else's. It was only once we got to our room that she expressed her concerns. She was worried that I was just marring Vernon because I thought that no one else would. "That's not true Petty, there are plenty of men out there who would love you as you deserve." She was genuinely worried about me, even after how I had treated her. I told her I loved Vernon, and that I truly wanted to marry him. She didn't bring up the subject again, but I knew she wasn't convinced. She was still worried for me, after I had been so mean to her. How could she be so forgiving?

I hated her because she was beautiful.

I hated her because she was smart.

I hated her for living out my dream.

I hated her for being so forgiving.

But most of all:

I hated her because she was right.

I hope you like it. This is my first story just so you know. I don't like flames but I really appriciate constructive criticism. I know I can't spell but I did run it through spell check. Thanks for reading!