Unnoticed

Perhaps my story should begin where all stories begin best-at the beginning. To start at the beginning would mean starting back when wizards and witches ruled all the lands. Before we had to hide like hunted animals and before now, when your existence is legend and our kind a popular theme for holidays.

Perhaps my story should begin at the end. To understand the beginning you must know what has happened to make me so desperate for you to hear the truth.

My truth.

But you see, the truth is completely void of any understanding to someone like you. Someone who would need tangible reasoning for my actions that lead me to become what I have become.

You have no idea how much I crave to leave this shell of a life. I have come so close so many times. There have been so many that have come and heard my story and then left me. They believed they could do nothing for me. I have gotten so close, but then, when I can almost taste my freedom, they are gone. I have come so close too many times to count. I will not ask you to help me. Just listen to my story. I don't where I will start or where it will end. You will have to fill in the holes yourself.

I am the youngest of seven kids. I have never gotten much attention and I suppose that's why I know despise it. I like it best when it is dark and quiet. I don't have any friends and don't want them. I despise people. They are so loud and dirty. So many have no pride and too many have too much. It is funny that so many people have never seemed to despise me. Do they not realize how much I loathe them?

People are so materialistic. How can people love things so much? Even more so, people are so vain. Growing up I was always told I was cute and adorable and dressed up in pretty, lacy, pink robes. Now that I am adorable, my roommates always complain that I am too thin, my cheekbones too high, my eyebrows too perfect, my hair too smooth and shiny. The only flaw I have to them is the ethereal whiteness of my skin.

They should be so lucky to not be in my skin. They do not know how I pull and tug at it, wishing it would slip away and I could be free.

It has taken me many lonesome years to develop my hatred of humans-magical and muggles alike. I have been silently viewing people since my life began.

I remained my silent viewing all through my years so far at Hogwarts. Once here, I allowed myself to feel a certain sense of compassion for the one known as Harry Potter. Harry is very much like myself, though no one else sees it. He likes to be alone and he is in love with the mystery of the night. Once someone mistook my feeling of approbation for that of a different sort.

There is one I have found a love for. He is not what some girls whisper him to possibly be. He is not nicer then he appears, beaten, neglected, or friendless. He is mean and malicious, not beaten, but slightly frightened of his father, spoiled and had many "friends." He is not hideous. Even I cannot deny he is quite good-looking. He uses women for sex, leaves them with a slight hope of a relationship, and leaves them. I know all this. I know he is arrogant and not nearly as smart as everyone says.

And yet I cannot help myself from loving him.

I do not know if what I believe is love for him is love. I know I think of nothing but him. Ever. He haunts me. I don't have "butterflies" I hear girls speak of often. I get a deep empty feeling inside me when I think of him, which is now all of the time. I feel worthless when I see him or see the girl of the week hanging onto his arm and out of her shirt. Occasionally, it is not a girl, but a male almost as handsome as himself.

I want him.

Not in the sense that you tend to think of. I want him to belong solely to me. I long to hear him whisper my name into my ear and have him tell me he loves me more then life itself. I want him to be able to die for me.

And as much I as I want him, I hate him. And I hate myself for loving him. I am so confused, so utterly distraught I don't know what to do. I don't want to push myself at him like Pansy or even Lavender. I know he would have me and be glad of it, even if I am a Weasley.

Even he knows the truth.

I know I don't belong here in Gryffindor-Home of the Hopelessly Stupid and Stupidly Hopeless. I don't quite believe in the motto of "slowing down evil by getting in the way." I don't belong here or anywhere else, for that matter.

I do wonder if I would've been happier in Slytherin. But then I come to my senses.

I would never be happy in a house that promotes world domination by an evil dictator. If I don't like the Gryffindor bubbliness, why would I like the Slytherin conformity? At least no one in Gryffindor tries to kill me for being "just a little different."

So I stayed in Gryffindor for 4 obscure years. 4 years I spent unknown and unwanted. Until I made myself known.