Monster
Petunia Evans stood at the threshold of her childhood bedroom , 11 years old again but carrying the weight of a lifetime of hurt and resentment. The house, filled with memories of neglect, rejection, and overshadowing brilliance, felt more stifling than ever. She could see her father, Harold, standing before her, a mixture of confusion and muted sorrow on his face. He was about to apologize again, but the words stung; they were empty, lacking the depth of understanding she longed for.
“I’m sorry you felt that way, Petunia. I just didn’t know how to be your father.”
His words dripped with the same hollow excuses she had heard as she grew up. They had always been there, hovering at the edge of familiarity, but now they ignited the buried fire of emotions within her. She had been a forgotten shadow in the Evans household, eclipsed by her sister’s radiant magical talents. For years, she battled a cruel envy that twisted her into someone she despised.
“Harold,” she said, deliberately, the name like a knife between them. “Is there something else you're hiding from me?”
His face fell, and silence hung heavy in the air as he realized the depth of her awareness. It was a revelation that no parent wants to hear—his daughter questioning his presence, his identity. There was a moment in that silence where all three of them—Petunia, Harold, and Rose—unwittingly confronted a shared truth: Petunia had been the unwanted child, a painful afterthought.
As her mother, Rose Evans, looked on, tears brimming in her eyes, Petunia felt a surge of empowerment coursing through her. “I will be living with Grandma Daisy from now on,” she declared, the finality of her words echoing in the room. “And since you never wanted me in your lives, well, I guess I can talk to her to adopt me.”
“Petunia, please wait! You can’t do this! You don’t understand. I’ve done everything for you!” Harold rushed to explain, desperation lining his voice.
“Have you ever thought about what Lily would think if you’re gone?” he continued, trying to pull at her heartstrings.
Petunia let out a harsh laugh. “Oh, you’re talking about the ideal daughter? The one who made all my suffering worthwhile? Don’t make me laugh.” She tapped her chin mockingly, pretending to think through her next words.“I can’t help but wonder how Lily would react to this situation. If you choose not to relinquish your parental rights, I’ll be forced to share everything with her. How does that sound to you?” Her voice was sing-song, a taunt she barely recognized as coming from her own mouth.
“You—who are you? You are not Petunia!” Rose cried out, horrified.
“Oh, but I am, Mother. I’m the monster you’ve created,” Petunia shot back, relishing a power she had never known.
Stepping outside into the chill of December, Petunia felt lighter. The air was crisp, and as she walked with her two friends, Emma and Yovve, she could breathe deeply for the first time in ages. It was a strange exhilaration mingled with resolve. She looked to the sky, feeling a strange pull, a call to an old connection abandoned long ago. “I will find you, Raven,” she whispered under her breath, committing herself to a path she had long resisted. She needed to find her husband.
“Are you okay?” Emma asked, concern weaving through her voice.
Petunia smiled, something genuine and warm breaking through. “To be honest, I feel relieved. Now everything became crystal clear.”
The trio continued down the street, the winter air biting at their cheeks. Emma looked at her with wide eyes. “Did you really mean what you said? About the adoption thing?”
Petunia nodded, a sense of determination rising in her chest, firm but soft. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Come on, guys, let’s just go to Grandma’s house. I want some hot chocolate to warm up from this December weather.”
As they walked, she plotted, her mind racing with possibilities. She had knowledge of future tragedies, and this time, she wouldn’t let them unfold. She would save her grandmother, who was destined for heartache, and craft a different fate for herself. She could forge her own identity—stronger, defiant, and unhindered by the scars of her childhood.
Petunia felt the warmth of her friends beside her, anchors of normalcy as they chatted and laughed. Yet as they reached her grandmother’s house, she was fully aware of the journey ahead. She was not just returning to the past; she was determined to rewrite her story, one where the shadows of neglect lost their hold, making space for healing—and perhaps, redemption.