Prologue

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Moral of the story: My stepfather killed my grandparents. My brother assisted... I think...

BUT! This isn't about my stepfather or my brother... or my grandparents for that matter. This is about my mother. Hermione Whitaker, alas Myers... alas Weber. Despite her most likely being oblivious to that, she was what held our little family together. That little family for the longest I remember being her, my stepfather, my brother and me.

This is going to be mainly me narrating her life but also some entries in her journals that she started when she was nine. Please just bear with me while I figure this whole writing thing out.

In this book, I'm not going to stick to referring to her as my mother, I'll sometimes refer to her as Hermione as well. We never had a relationship where I would refer to her as 'mum' so I'm not going to do that here either. I'm not a hypocrite. We had a terrible relationship. You'll find out why.

I honestly never judged her for how bad our relationship was. After reading through her journals, especially the years of 1995 and 1996, I really get it.

None of this was really my fault and neither was it hers really, she just broke after that specific day. Let's not spoil anything here. We're going to talk about this soon enough.

Her story is sad, that much I can say.

Honestly, I don't even know why I'm rambling here. This was supposed to be a prologue but I'm really not good at this (yet). I'm planning on studying literature, despite having no idea what career I can pursue after that. I mean, I can become an author – duh – but I don't think I'm remotely close to being an outstanding writer.

Anyways, here's Hermiones' story.

We're starting in June of 1974.

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