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"Lily! Lily, wake up! Come on, you can't just sit in bed all day, we've got stuff to do!" Sometimes I hate my mom. She's annoying, and tries to be nice as possible, which can get really frustrating sometimes. I'm not joking when I say this- she doesn't understand me. Ever. I'm so unlike her, sometimes I think I'm adopted. Heck! I don't look anything like her!
"Why can't I sit in bed all day?"
"Because. It's your birthday!" Oh yay. My birthday. The saddest day of the year for me. Every year I ask my mother to tell me who my dad is, but she just ignores me, like I didn't deserve to know. It's sadder than you'd think, considering I've lived for thirteen years.
Mom bursts through the door and opens the curtains. I hiss, the sunlight flooding into my eyes suddenly. "Get dressed, Lily. We're going to Lumiose City!"
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As soon as we get there, Mom drags me around for a little while. She buys some Potions, a bag, and a few Pokéballs for some reason. She then tells me to go looking around the place for a while, you know, have some fun. I find the North Boulevard Library, which is tucked in between Hotel Richissme and the entrance to South Boulevard. I knew they had genealogy records there, and if Grace Johnson was the going to tell me, then I'd find out for myself.
I searched for nearly an hour before I came across the right Johnson family. Above my mother's name was Gary and Anne Johnson. Below hers was my name- Lillian Avery. It was so nice to see my name in the records, for some reason. It gave me a sense of pride.
But what was weird was my last name. Last I knew, I was known as Lily Johnson, not Lily Fleur-Johnson. Mom claims she's never married anyone, but could she be lying? She could have gotten a divorce or something, you never know. All that was left was to find out who my father was, obviously one of the Fleur family-- whatever kind of name that was.
Another hour "sped by" before I found the Fleur family. All of them seemed like rich people, wearing fancy clothes that must have cost a fortune and hair seemingly flawless. The pictures slowly faded from black and white into an early form of color photography. The second-last one in the line looked at the camera with a face that you could just tell he was extremely laid-back. His hair was slicked away from his forehead, but stuck up near the back. Ginger hair. Piercing icy-blue eyes that could silence a thousand men with just one look. He looked just like me.
But what was more disturbing than finding out Mom kept my father a secret for years and years, was his name. The name of one of the richest men in Kalos, that of whom has donated thousands of dollars to the people, yet has the darkest side to him. The name so powerful it is feared by nearly all in Kalos--
Lysandre.
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