Sweet Rememberance

~*~ Hey there! I hope that you think that this Prolog is Ok. I know that it is fairly messed up. ~*~

Alone on a long wooden bench, one surrounded by trees and flowers, there sat a little girl. Her curly red hair fell to her shoulders, and behind long eyelashes there was a pair of vivid green eyes.

A sudden breeze sent the light pink flowers from the trees and into the girl's deep auburn hair. The girl- probably only about sixteen- wrapped her black sweater around her shoulders, and nestled against the hard wood.

All of a sudden, there was a loud boom, and the girl jumped off of the bench with a startled scream. After all, the boom had come from not two feet away. Her heart in her throat, the girl ran towards the large Victorian house that was right in back of the bench.

As she ran into the house, the girl screamed as she assessed the damage that happened in not ten minutes.

All of the furniture was all placed on the floor in a haphazard way, as if there was a burglar that had been in a hurry to find something quick. There was glass all over the floor, and a broken lamp lay in shards at the foot of a green couch. There were large stains on the carpeting that hadn't been there before, and they looked mysteriously like blood.

But that wasn't the worse part.

As the girl went and searched behind the large, overstuffed green couch, there lay a pretty blonde woman. Her large blue eyes were round and glassy, and her mouth was open, forming a big O, like she had a scream that she just couldn't get out before she died.

Releasing a sob, the girl knelt down and grasped the dead woman's hand. It was cold to the touch. A tear rolled down her cheek, and rested on the dead woman's surprised and scared face.

As she knelt there, she felt, rather than heard, another presence in the room. It was like all of a sudden, all of the happiness (not that there was any happiness) had been let out of the room, and instead there was only dread and the knowledge that this was all her fault.

It wasn't as if it hadn't happened before.

This was the girl's third foster home, not counting the actual family that had consisted of her real mother and father. But the girl preferred not the think of the woman who had raised her, and the man that had fathered her for just eleven short years.

The tears still flowing freely from her eyes, the girl turned slowly to see what doom lay in front of her.

All she found was her foster sister, Petunia, leaning up against the door jam to the kitchen. Petunia was a skinnier, planer version of her ex-model mother, Elizabeth. Her hands were grasping the door way like it was an anchor, and her knuckles were white. The girl knew that she was fighting not to scream.

"This is all your fault," Petunia accused, tears making her already watery eyes even wetter. "If you hadn't come here, and destroyed out family like your last one, none of this would have happened!"

The girl silently nodded her head, knowing fully well that it was all her fault. Everything was her fault. Every death, every broken home, every war. All past, present and future despair would be her fault, and there was nothing that she could do about it.

Some people would call her God. Others would call her an alien. And even still, others would call her the missing link. But she knew that she was nothing but a freak, the cause of everything that was wrong in the world.

As the girl was thinking this, still nodding her head, Petunia lunged from the doorway, her face very pale.

"You came into our home, stole my family, invited all of your goddamn freaks into this home, and all you can do is shake your head knowing that you killed innocent people?" She balled her hands into fists. "What kind of a monster are you, Lily Evans!?"

Lily could only shake her head at Petunia, not knowing what to say. What could she say at a time like this? Nothing. That's what she was able to say the last three times, and even though all of the years, nothing had changed.

She should have known that this would have happened. Nothing was perfect, not even the fabricated life that people pretended that they had.

Nothing would ever be perfect as long as she lived.

Sometimes she just wished that someone would kill her, get it over with nice and quickly; she wouldn't want to be alive a moment longer than she needed to be, and making it slow and painful would only draw out and prolong the suffering.

Petunia lunged at Lily, knocking the wind out of her. She let out an Oaf as the larger girl's bigger frame slammed into her. Suddenly, she was being straddled by the only foster sister that she ever had.

Petunia grasped Lily hands and forced the behind Lily's back. She then sat on her stomach, resulting in less air being allowed in her airways. Lily didn't even try to knock Petunia off of her.

"You bitch!" Petunia screamed as she wrapped her fingers around Lily's throat. "You goddamn bitch! I'll fucking kill you!"

Good, Lily thought. Take me and everyone else out of our misery.

These were Lily's last thoughts as she was plunged into the sweet oblivion of black.

Death.