Alone In The Shadows ► || Harry Potter ||

| Chapter One ~ Year One |

It was a strange feeling, being so alone in the world. For as long as I could remember, I was always so different. Different to anyone and everyone around me. In the end, it was just easier to keep myself to myself. But all this never stopped me from looking at the other children my age and seeing how lucky they were. They all came from a warm, loving home and had everything they could ever wish for. Instead, I came from a home that hated me and left me feeling so unwanted. It was my only dream to feel like I belonged somewhere. A place where I would be accepted and loved for who I was. But as time went on, I knew it would never happen. Things like that only happened in the books I'd read. Instead, I was forced to live in the real world with my Aunt, Cynthia Shawcross. It was no lie that my Aunt often showed her disdain for me while I lived in her home. I was the orphan left on her doorstep. Abandoned by one's parents in the middle of the night. As I grew older, I begged my Aunt to tell me about my parents and why they left me here in the first place. She was the only person around who would have known my parents, but she refused to let anything slip. I didn't even know their names, let alone what they looked like. Cynthia was a stubborn woman and was determined to keep her lips sealed. Tightly.

There were times, however, when I did have good days while living here. Those normally came from the days when I would go to school. Especially when I was younger, I used to love going to school. It was the only time I'd get to escape that house and away from all of Cynthia's demands. It was the only place where I could be a carefree child. Everything was perfect. But then things started to change. Just after my sixth birthday, strange things started to occur around me. I could make things move without touching them. Make objects vanish then reappear in a completely different room. Sometimes I didn't even know I was doing these things. They happened purely on the current emotion I was expressing. When these things started to happen, my once so-called friends started to tease me. Call me names. Their favourite was 'freak'. At the time I actually believed them. All these things I could do was weird and unnatural. But I never asked for them. I never wanted to be able to do this. It just happened.

Then one day, my class took it too far. One boy, in particular, Alfie Owens was relentless with the name-calling. He teased me all lunchtime and had started to throw grass at me. He got me so angry that I ended up sending him flying across the playground. I never meant for that to happen. I didn't have any control. He just got me so angry. Without saying, Cynthia was summoned to the school within the hour and informed of what happened. I'd never seen her look so angry at me. The moment we got home, she yelled saying I was never to do that again else she'd throw me out on the streets. From that day on, she frequently called me a 'freak of nature just like my parents. I had no idea what she meant; I was too scared to ask. I was scared of everything after that. I swore to myself from that day on I would be the quiet one. Never to call out. Never to answer back. I just wanted to keep myself to myself. Sitting alone. Playing alone. I was alone.

Then everything changed.
Last year, on my 10th birthday, I received a small beige envelope in the post. Right from the start, I knew it was strange because I never got letters. Never. I remember being so excited that I grabbed the envelope and ran up to my room in the attic before Cynthia saw it. Jumping onto my bed, I carefully opened it and pulled out a small piece of paper that had very neat handwriting spread across it. Reading the note, it said:

"This once belonged to your mother and I know she would have wanted you to have it.
Happy birthday Odessa.
R.L"

In the days that followed my birthday, I tried so hard to work out who this R.L was, but I couldn't find a thing. I searched through so many address books Cynthia had around the house, but none of them had the name R.L. Whoever they were, it was a complete mystery to me. But what did make me smile was the knowledge that whoever this person was, they knew my mother and perhaps, my father. It was the only thing that gave me hope, having this locket. It was the only thing that made me happy in my rather dismal life.