Post by Deleted on Dec 28, 2012 11:41:46 GMT -8
Waverly was beginning to realize that she was a bit obsessed with her sister. In the most all-consuming sense. She thought about her sister more than she thought about anyone else; she was constantly fixated on who her sister was dating, what she was wearing, eating, doing. It was painfully overwhelming, but Waverly couldn't help it.
It didn't even end there, either. Waverly, on a day-to-day basis, compared herself to her perfect, angelic, sister. How might things be different if they swapped clothes and Siobhan was the one with holes in her face, dressed head to toe in black? Would people like Waverly more if she grew out her hair, let it gleam with its natural shade of red? Were pastel-colored skirts and pink cardigans the ways into people's hearts?
She supposed all the obsessing had all begun from when she was a very little girl. Her sister Siobhan, only two years older, was loved and adored by everyone. She was charming and beautiful, Waverly was awkward and off-putting. Throughout her childhood she'd admired her sister, and it showed. She was always there to support Siobhan at elementary school plays, always brushed her sister's hair whenever she asked, and on more than one occasion took the blame for a small fire that had really been Siobhan's doing. It became increasingly clear to her though, that her affections were not to be returned. So often Waverly would beg to play with Siobhan, and Siobhan would laugh and say, "Later, sis." But playtime would never happen. When they got to Hogwarts and were both sorted into Hufflepuff, Siobhan promised that they would become the best of friends and spend every moment together. This never happened either. Their relationship was nothing but empty promises.
Enraged at her own epiphany and subsequent stupidity, she had raced to the Forbidden Forest, perfectly aware that it was off limits to students. She had come here numerous times, and it was her home away from home. Standing in a glade, listening to the wind brush the leaves and feeling the stillness all around her, Waverly could feel her anger and embarrassment swelling inside her of. Without much thought, she began flinging curses in every which direction, not aiming, not thinking about the consequences, who might hear her, who she'd run into. She didn't even realize that she was crying.
Dusk arrived, sooner than she had anticipated, and soon she was in the middle of the woods in complete darkness. This didn't bother her, however. Let her get lost for a little while.
Waverly breathed heavily, exhausted from her fit. She wasn't one to throw temper tantrums very often. That was Siobhan's area of expertise. How she was beginning to hate her sister and all the people that were blinded by her. Waverly might never be as beautiful, or as adored, charming, or as effervescent. But she knew deep down, even if know one else did, that she was the better witch, the better person.
