she has it all. perfect grades, hair that catches the light just right, a smile that makes everyone feel warm and safe. sheās the dependable friend, the one you go to when you need advice or a shoulder to cry on. sheās the sunshine girl, with a prefect badge on her chest and the most popular boy at school hopelessly in love with her.
but no one asks how lily evans is doing. because why would they? sheās fine. sheās always fine.
her home is a battlefield. petuniaās sharp words cut deeper than anyone realizes. she doesnāt even have to yell anymoreājust the disappointed looks, the cold silences, the way she acts like lily doesnāt exist. like she never mattered. freak, unnatural, worthless.
the war creeps closer every day, and lily feels it like a noose tightening around her neck. her parents are mugglesātargets. every owl, every headline feels like it could be the one that changes everything. but she doesnāt talk about it. she doesnāt cry. she canāt. everyone is counting on her to be strong.
so she bottles it all up. she smiles, she nods, she listens. but the weight inside her chest gets heavier and heavier, pressing down on her ribs until she canāt breathe.
so she starts cutting because she needs to feel something that isnāt this crushing emptiness. the sharp sting is quick, almost clean, and for a moment, itās like sheās in control of the chaos. but then the guilt sets in. the shame. what kind of person does this to themselves? sheās disgusted, but she canāt stop.
then thereās the food. at first, itās not deliberate. she skips a meal here and there because sheās ātoo busy.ā but then she realizes how light it makes her feel, how empty. itās like sheās disappearing from the inside out, and that feels like a kind of freedom.
every day, she tells herself she wants to die. not dramatically, not in the heat of the momentājust this quiet, persistent whisper at the back of her mind. what if you justā¦ stopped? she thinks about it when sheās brushing her teeth, or walking to class, or lying in bed at night. what if you didnāt have to do this anymore?
sometimes, itās vivid. she imagines the ways she could do it, running through the details in her mind. the astronomy tower maybe? but then the shame kicks in, this hot, suffocating wave that makes her stomach churn. youāre selfish enough already. donāt make it worse.
but other times, itās just this hollow ache, this desperate longing for everything to stop. itās not even about dyingāitās about escaping. she feels like sheās drowning in everyone elseās expectations, their problems, their pain, and sheās so tired of carrying it all. she just wants it to end.
and yet, she doesnāt do it. she calls herself a coward for it, berates herself for being too weak to follow through. you can do everything else perfectly, but you canāt even do this. itās another thing to hate about herself, another way she feels like sheās failing.
but deep down, she knows why she doesnāt do it. she keeps going because she doesnāt know how to stop. because thereās a part of her that still hopes, even when she hates herself for it. because no matter how much she wants to disappear, thereās a part of her thatās terrified of being forgotten.
she lays in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering if this is it. is this what life is supposed to be? when will it get better? when will i be free?
but the next morning, she gets up. she smiles. she listens to her friends. she carries their burdens and hides her own because someone has to, and who else is there?
lily evans: the girl who can do anything. except fall apart.
