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She was the most beautiful woman who ever lived, anyone who ever led eyes on her would've agreed. Even as young as five, she was way more pretty than her sisters, and her perfect features only improved as she got older. As young as fourteen she already had suitors lining up for her. She could've only made her parents happier if she where born a boy, but unfortunately she was not. So she sat at endless dinner next to old men who talked her ears off about how successful they were and whose hand wandered a little too high up her thighs. But she never said anything, she smiled and nodded along because that was what she was supposed to do. She wanted her mother and father to be proud of her. It was the only thing she ever wanted, sometimes she wondered what it would be like to look like her sisters, maybe they wouldn't ignore her so much. That's what she told herself anyway when the night got too dark and the closet was haunted. When her sob where too loud and her nails digging in her skin were no comfort.
So that night when she felt the cold air fill up her lung and the blood slowly escaping her wrist she wasn't sad, she wasn't afraid of losing her life because it was never hers, from the moment the doctor announced she was a girl her life had slipped away from her, only leaving a shell. A beautiful shell with blond hair and blue eyes but still an empty shell.
When she took her last breath she didn't think of her family, not of her father's words or her mother's gaze. She thought of short curly brown hair and the happiest eyes that ever existed. God Alice, she was so mesmerizing. Finally her heart stopped and she was free at last.
The most beautiful woman who ever lived died at sixteen. And her name was Narcissa Black.