The Technicalities Of Life

The Technicalities Of Life

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WpMetadataNoticeUltima pubblicazione gio, ago 27, 2020
Her name was Emyllin Slater. She would often get teased by the other girls living at Ms. Brown's orphanage for girls, who called her a vampire and phantom and other sorts of things like that. Mostly she stayed away from the other kids as much as she could, but it's hard to stay away from someone if you live in the same place. Emyllin sat on a windowsill staring out the window streaked with raindrops at the water falling heavily to the earth. She had been at the orphanage since she was three, when she'd been orphaned. Her parents had died mysteriously. One day they were going on about their business and the next they were found dead in their house, no trace of blood or physical damage, but holding a stick of wood each. No one knew how they had died. She was six and a half when she first saw an evil, fat woman called Marge Dursley. That was the day when Emyllin got adopted to what would quickly become a place of bad memories, but before that, her life. Several years later she receives a letter of acceptance from a school, and it's probably perfectly normal to have your letter delivered by an owl. Right?
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Entra a far parte della più grande comunità di narrativa al mondoFatti consigliare le migliori storie da leggere, salva le tue preferite nella tua Biblioteca, commenta e vota per essere ancora più parte della comunità.
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The Malfoy's daughter is unappreciated and sent away as much as possible. She spent lots of time with her aunt Bellatrix, but not even Bellatrix likes her. But one day something happens that... how shall I say it? Puts her Above Them All ............................................................. "IM NOT TALKING TO YOU!" "F*CK OFF!" "I'm not in the mood!" "God, you're worse than I am!" Every day, every hour, I'm reminded that I'm a mistake. I should've never been born. I walk outside and stare at the moon. A voice was behind. "Misunderstood? Unappreciated? Just like I was? Join me," a white hand reaches out to mine. I look up. Time Riddle. Or more known as Voldemort. Should I take his hand?

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