You Dont Know Me

    You probably don't know what it feels like to be depressed. It is, quite frankly, the emptiest feeling one can experience. I was, at one point in my life, very depressed. I was always worrying about how things would end up for my daughter and myself. Yes, I do have a daughter by the way. She is older now, but at the time my story starts she was in her early infancy.

    Living in a small flat, basically abandoned by my husband, my life grew worse everyday. I would sit, holding my sleeping baby, staring blankly at the pathetic vase which resided on my mantelpiece, thinking, praying, that one day my life would get better.

    "I only want the best for you," I would whisper to her as she slept. But my heart cried as I thought of the worst: What if my life never got better? What if my daughter had to grow up wearing second-hand clothes? I didn't want to be on welfare when she went off to school. And then I cried. I hugged her t o me, letting my hot tears fall freely. This life of mine was to get better, but I was lost of hope, and, at the time, didn't think it possible.

* * *

    Train rides never fancied me, nor did I fancy them, but since this particular day, I have begun to see them in a new light. I had been visiting my mother in England, something that had slightly cheered me up, and was on my way home to Scotland. Looking out the window at the beautiful English countryside, I let my thoughts float in the pool that is my mind.

    My child was asleep, dreaming of peaceful things that were happening around her, while I was becoming lost in my own misery, fears, and sorrows.

    I began to think about books and how long it had been since I had read any good material. I pondered writing a short story through the eyes of another that showed how one's life might get better over time, as I so hoped mine would. I began to broaden on this appealing subject, pulling some scraps of paper and a pen from my small bag above the compartment. I soon became excited as I wrote down a description of the main character... and a plot seemed to form in my mind...

    "An eleven year-old boy who lives with his non-magical relatives after an evil wizard kills his parents, gets an acceptance letter from a magical school. He soon finds out that he is actually famous. (Reasons to be devised)."

    I chose the school name to be Hogwarts, noting that the school founders might have had a sense of humour. The main character would be Harry Potter (characterised by his round glasses, lightning scar, jet-black hair, bright green eyes, and baggy clothes).

    I don't quite know how his features came to be. I was a brunette with blue eyes, and he was supposed to be like me; yet, he /looked/ completely different. He would be in denial at first, finding it hard to believe that he could be special. But then, just like I would later do, Harry would begin to believe In himself and his magical abilities.

    The friends and enemies of him came to me soon afterward: Ronald Weasley, (who had six brothers, one sister, and lived a poor lif), and /the/ Hermione Granger (book smart and always a worrier about grades). Then there were his enemies: Draco Malfoy,

(a schoolmate), Draco's father Lucius, and the Dark Lord and his followers.

    The name Voldemort came to me oddly. You see, Vol-de-mort is flight-of-death in French, which I speak fluently. The name meaning suits him because he has tried to evade death. After naming the characters and plot, the story bloomed beautifully in my mind.

    If I look back on that day in a time when I felt worthless, I can only think one thing:

    "Thank you, Harry. You saved me. You truly did."