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My Name: Part 5 - Kids Stories by Marissa Albright from Tremonton, USA

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Abnegation Amity Candor Dauntless Erudite Tris Four Eric Jeanine

Author Marissa Albright Town Tremonton
Age 14 Country USA
Rating 5 Date 23rd Feb 2005
Topic Quidditch
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Title My Name: Part 5
'You may think this story is nothing, but I assure you it is if anything everything. Harry you are my brother, that is a fact. If you do not believe this tale that is okay but I beg of you to please listen intently and wait for the answers that I know are wanting to come from you.' I said this hoping it would shed some light as to why they should listen. I continued my story.

I ran and ran unable to breathe, unable to think. Unable to comprehend all that had happened. Not only because I was at the fair age of one but also because my brother had been taken away by some strange giant and my parents were dead.
I sat there, on a stump in the woods, waiting for the shock to subside before I went back to my home. As I sat there I thought of what I would do, my thoughts were extremely complex for a one year old girl and even I was amazed that I thought them, amazed I had run, I was just....amazed. I stood up and left the woods, it was unknown to me that someone followed my every step from that wood on until I came here. They followed my movement and never once stopped to think that I may fight back to retrieve what had been stolen from me.
I arrived at my once beautiful home at day break. As the sun rose I saw the burnt remains of my once happy home. I walked along the ashes and charred bits of wood and sharp pieces of glass, stopping every few seconds to look for an object that had stood there once. The only the.....the ONLY thing I found that had not been burned was a small necklace. It was a regular piece of leather that had mysteriously not burned in the flames. On the string was a star, a gold star encrusted in green and blue and red. The necklace to me was beautiful and I picked it up, thrusting it over my head onto my neck. I wore that necklace throughout my entire journey and I still do to this day, refuse to take it off. For it is the only thing that connects me to my parents in any way for no one not even Albus Dumbledore knew that Harry had a sister, or that Voldemort had more than one victim in mind.

I stopped, hoping that my audience and my brother understood all that I had given them so far. These pauses I figured were necissarry as I was working with people who had never suffered so much pain, so much as me and Harry, except for perhaps Neville. But none of them could imagine how terrifying this story truly got.

tbc