It was just a normal average day for a normal average woman in her normal average life, with a normal average husband, and normal average friends. But to her it didn’t feel like a normal average day.
Mary woke up that day, and went for a walk, when she suddenly felt a strange feeling, loneliness, it rushed through her veins, leaving her in sadness.
Mary was never lonely though, she had her husband, and her friends, and her dog, and all of her friends' kids. She had no right to feel lonely yet she did, she felt lonely while watering her plants, she felt lonely while cuddling her husband, she even felt lonely while she was out with her friends.
It was like all of a sudden she realized she was living a boring average life, with a boring average house, and a boring average husband, and friends that felt too fake, and a life that felt like it was never meant to be hers.
This went on for months, the loneliness tugging at her bones, coursing through her veins and settling deep in her chest, a feeling that she could never escape. It tugged at her everyday and everyday, all of those days normal average days, with normal average people, that were starting to become boring.
No adventure, but Mary can’t remember a time that there was adventure. Loneliness, but now Mary looks back and can’t find a time where she didn’t feel lonely, or out of place, or like she was supposed to be somewhere else. Average, but isn’t everything average, Mary can’t remember anymore. She needs to go get her memory checked or something, it feels like she can’t remember how to live anymore, it’s almost like she never learned.
Mary started feeling incomplete, like there was this aspect of life that she once had, now forgotten. She felt like she must have forgotten something important, she must’ve lost something along the way of paving her life.
Her heart felt hollow, as if there used to be something filling it, but not anymore.
She tried her hardest to think of what that could be, maybe she wants a kid, or something else average and exciting, but she couldn’t quite figure out what was missing in her life. Even while talking to her husband John, this hollowness in her heart still stayed, it seemed no matter what she did she would end up feeling like this.
She had tried very hard to ignore it, she had tried very hard to will it away, she felt as if she had tried everything to feel how she felt just a mere months ago.
On another normal average day, months after the first feeling of loneliness, Mary decided she needed to clean up the house, it was too messy, and maybe that’s why she felt like this.
Another normal average day in between thousands of normal average days. She vacuumed the floors, and did normal average cleaning things.
Then she decided to look through the attic, since it’s been ages since she went in there. She started clearing up the boxes and found a box full of letters. ‘Interesting’ she thought, ‘the last time me or John used letters was quite a few years ago, since the internet became a thing we stopped’.
The last letter was dated 1982 so Mary thought maybe these were John’s old collection of letters, so she was ready to set the box aside until she saw her name in there. She decided to pick up the letter at the top
——
04/05/82
Today is the day Lily. I’m never gonna even think of you again, I really wish you guys were still here, I’ll miss you so much, but I know you’ll still be there somewhere, I really hope you’re still somewhere out there, enjoying life with James, Marlene, Peter & Dorcas. God, I can barely function without you guys. I miss you all so much.
Love, for the last time
Mary Macdonald
——
Mary felt confused, thinking ‘who is this Lily? Why did we stop talking? and why can’t I remember anything about this?’
She decided to dump the box and sort out all the letters by their dates, so maybe she could try and remember who these people were, and why they seemed so important to her.
Mary also felt like she needed to sort them out by the people that were mentioned. Remus, Sirius, Lily, Marlene, Peter, James, Dorcas, & Pandora. ‘weirdo names’ She thought, ‘except for Peter, James and Lily, and who even are these people?’ After Mary had sorted out all the letters, she decided to pick from the ones about ‘Lily’ and picked up the oldest one, dated from her school years, the summer of ‘72 and it was decorated with flowers drawn on it.
She remembered that those were her first years of school yet she can’t remember anything about it, as if it was erased from her memory.
——
12/08/1972
Hi Lily! How has your summer been? I’m sending this through a muggle post because well, we’re both muggle-borns and I don’t have an owl yet. (My mom says they’re gonna be a big pain in the ass so we can’t get one, she’s such a buzzkill, having tons of fun, and I’ve missed my TV so much. I’ve spent some time with Marlene (we used magic, haha, I don’t know how they didn’t catch us!) and I hope you can come visit soon.
Love,
Mary (your new friend!)
——
Mary felt even more confused, who were muggles? Why did she need owls? Who was Marlene, and who was Lily? She had always thought she had forgotten her school years due to her age, or the genetics that were passed on to her, but while she read this letter she felt as if something had happened, as if something important happened in her brain. She decided to look at a letter sent from ‘Marlene Mckinnon’
——
09/12/1973
Hi Mary! It’s me Marlene, well you would probably know that but anyways, I forgot to write you letters last year, and I felt really bad about it, so here you go! A letter from your best non muggleborn friend! How has your winter been? Mine’s been pretty good, I’ve hung out with James and Peter a lot, and sometimes Remus comes and visits them so it’s always fun! I know you said you were dreading going home, but I hope it wasn’t that bad.
Love ya,
Marlene Mckinnon
——
Looking back upon school days, Mary had tried really hard to think, think and remember what had happened, of who she was friends with. Some started coming back to her, bright fiery long hair, flying brooms, big massive tables filled with food she could never even imagine and short blonde hair. Who were they? Why can’t she remember?
She continued looking through the letters, still not understanding anything. How could they be magic? Were they wizards? She couldn’t understand anything, except for minor details.
She reviewed what she knew. Lily used to hate the boy called James. Her and Lily, Marlene, Dorcas & Pandora were friends in school. The letters from the boy Sirius started in ‘76 and ended ‘81 and it seemed like they were dating from ‘76 to ‘77. James and Lily started dating in ‘78 and got married in ‘79 and had a baby in ‘80. All the letters stopped in 1981. Marlene’s letters stopped in 1980, so did Dorcas’s and Pandora. She only had four letters from Peter, dated ‘78 ‘79 ‘80 and ‘81, one per year.
They all mentioned a war by 1978, it seemed that they were all fighting in it, or fighting against it? She wasn’t sure.
Mary cannot for the life of her remember any wars in the UK from that time, she can’t even remember something important happening that year. The memories were just a blur of school and colours, nothing important at all.
Mary found a pretty informational letter that seemed to have been unsent, to one Lily Evans. Who was supposedly her best friend.
——
13/08/1978
Hey Lily. I’m so sad happy you’re with James now I miss you so much. I just wanted to check up on you, I hope you’re doing well. Tell me more about your summer. I miss your letters and your love.
I also wanted to ask if we were still a thing? Like we were last year. Fuck
I just wanted to check in!
All the love,
Mary Macdonald
——
Mary was finally starting to piece together everything. She was in love with Lily Evans, Lily Evans was in love with James Potter. Lily Evans used to love her, but stopped. They were still friends. They must’ve gone no contact. Lily must’ve started to hate her and her love. She hoped they were still alive, she had to contact them.
Mary saw another letter, it explained more to her. More about what had happened to them, and who they really were.
——
03/04/82
Lily, the wizarding world rejoiced and celebrated, but I can’t believe that you, James, Peter, Marlene, Dorcas, and everyone are just gone and that Sirius betrayed you. I miss you so much, and I’m thinking of obliviating myself, I see you everywhere, I see them everywhere, and I hope Remus is okay, I can’t see him anymore. I miss you, I wish we were back in Hogwarts, nothing would kill us there. Lily, I’m sorry, I’m never going to remember you after this. Goodbye my friend Snape came after me, I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t wanna hurt you, my love, I know we’re just friends but I miss you
Love,
Mary Macdonald, I’ll never forget you
——
Mary finally seemed to understand. They might be dead, but she wasn’t sure yet. They were all friends, there was a war. She felt a pang in her chest, she missed them, even though she barely knew them. This must’ve been what she was feeling, a longing for the past, the better past, her real life.
‘Wizards must be real,’ she thought to herself, ‘I must be one. But how?’ She was still confused about the logistics of it, but she knew she was a wizard, or used to be. She must’ve used a spell to erase her memories. Why? Was it that heart-breaking? Mary didn’t know, but she assumed.
Suddenly she felt a light blinding her, she collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily, her heart pounding in her ears and her vision dark.
Her vision was filled with a bright white light, and it felt like all her past memories were coming back. Her head hurt, and all she could see was what seemed to be her old friends, they were joking around, small and young. Then they were kissing and playing silly games like truth or dare, and throwing around spells with wands like it was easy.
Then she saw something important, her and a redhead were kissing, and kissing, and the love filled the air, but it changed, the redhead was kissing a boy. A boy, and not her.
The memory quickly changed to a battlefield, the blood was everywhere, it was even all over her. She felt it on her head, in her bones, staining her. She was the redhead and her friends fighting too, all bruised and bloody. Fighting against people with masks. They all had wands too, it must’ve been bad. She saw dead people everywhere, and then the light was gone.
Everything went back to the dark, and she tried to get up but she couldn’t. She tried to open her eyes, and after a couple of tries she managed to get them open, her eyelids heavy and drooping.
Mary stayed on the ground for a minute or two longer, processing what she had seen, what memories had come back to her, the redhead must’ve been Lily. The boy James. Her heart broke slowly, the pieces stuck in her body, making her choke on her emptiness.
Mary truly felt the weight of what she remembered, they must all be dead. Her friends, her love, her everything, and she had chosen to forget them. She had chosen to live oblivious. She hated herself, why would she do that? She wanted to remember everything, she wanted all the love back. She knew this love, this life she had lived wasn’t real. It wasn’t hers, not anymore. It was the life of a person unburdened by their past, unknowing of their truth.
She stood up, shaking, and walked to the only table in the attic, sitting on the small short chair, grasping to its edges, eyes searching for a pen and paper to write on.
She saw a paper on the edge, she picked it up slowly, her hand shaking and tried to write a letter to Lily.
——
13/07/92
I know who you are now. I really miss you, I hope this gets to you. I hope you’re alive. I just wanted to reach out again, Lily Evans. I couldn’t get you out of my mind, even when I didn’t know who you were
I hope you’re out there somewhere, and this gets to you. I hope one day we can meet again, and I can see you and the others.
Regards,
Mary Macdonald
——
After Mary had written down her thoughts in the letter, she sighed. She felt like she would never get a reply, and it would tell her that her fear was real, but she had to try.
She walked back to the floor, picking up an envelope and an opened letter to figure out Lily’s address and write it down. She put her letter in the envelope and wrote down the address, put a stamp on it, and prayed.
She went downstairs, put the letter in the mailbox, and prayed for it to reach. Prayed for Lily to be alive.
She saw the letters get taken away the next day, and she prayed.
She continued her normal average life, and continued praying. Praying the letter would reach, praying they could be friends again.
She kissed her husband, she babysat her friends' kids, she went out, she had fun, but not without praying. She did everything with the feeling of despair in her bones the longer the letter wasn’t replied to.
6 MONTHS LATER:
Mary checked the post anxiously, knowing the letter should’ve gotten to Lily already, knowing she should have a reply already.
Six months had passed, it had been so long with the fear of Lily being dead in her body, and now she knew. The letter was in the mailbox, address not found. Person dead.
Lily was dead. The only tether to her past life, the only tether for the pain she was feeling. The one who had made it better and then worse again. She felt the pain in her chest before it hit her mind, making her breath heavy and her body shake.
She barely knew this person, yet here she was, crying over them being dead. Lily must’ve died ages ago, but Mary didn’t know.
All Mary knew was that it was 1993. January, her husband's birth month. The day she found out Lily was dead. Lily was dead, which meant all her friends were dead. It was like before she had found out, she still didn’t know them, and she would never be able to. They were all gone. Forever. She would never even get to see the fiery red hair again, unless it was someone else, someone different. Not Lily.
She ran to the attic, where all those months ago she had sat down, and written a letter to a dead person. To a dead person she once knew, to a dead person she would never get to feel again.
Mary sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until her body was empty of tears, and her voice gone. She would never get to remember them again, all she had was letters. Letters to a happier life.
She never did get over it, years and years later, an old woman, with her old husband. She held on to those letters, never letting them go missing, keeping them in a box titled ‘Don’t Forget Me’, and she never did forget.
Sometimes she would wish that she could erase her memories again, but this time she lived with the pain, and died with the pain.