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Lyra

Lyra Johnson was not a normal child. For one, she was a witch. Not only that, but Lyra wasn't always her name. Before she was Lyra, an English witch born in 1960, she was Emma Smith, an American muggle, born in 1999.

Emma lived a short life - she was born just two years after her brother Alexander, into the hands of an abusive father. Her mother died in childbirth, and her father, Daniel, became bitter. She was bullied in school and by her father, but her brother tried to protect her to the best of his ability.

Emma threw herself into books, spending hours in the public library and away from her house. She read nearly every book she could get her hands on. Each page was a window into a world with a hero, someone who could solve every problem, and had a happy ending. When the Library closed, she would meet up with her brother, and they would do anything and everything to stay away from their house until the last possible moment. They picked up odd jobs for money, and when they couldn't find one, they went to the skate park, and Alex would try to teach Emma how to skateboard.

Eventually, the abuse proved to be too much for the pair, and he took her and their few belongings and ran away from home when she was twelve. The two of them lived on the streets for three months before being picked up by the police and put in foster care, going from house to house.

Emma and Alexander found a happy home a year later, when Emma was 13, and both were adopted. Both siblings were wildly popular in their new school, known as both kind and smart. Neither of them liked bullies, and knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of it, so they stood up to those who looked down on others, and became friends with those who were looked down upon. They were top of their class, and tutored those who asked. Emma threw herself into soccer and drawing, while her brother competed in chess and football. Both of them took up boxing, as they didn't want to be helpless if they ever saw their father again.

When Emma was 16, her Alex was diagnosed with cancer and died only six months later. Emma was distraught, but continued being who she was, knowing her brother would be devastated if he learned she destroyed herself because of him. She made sure to attend every football match, and would occasionally go to the orphanage to talk to the kids there, something her brother used to do with her.

Then, in 2016, when Emma was a senior in high school, she died in a school shooting, having jumped in front of a younger student. She could still hear the screams of pain and fear, the unnerving quiet from the other two students in the library, trying to stay hidden. The undeniable sound of gunshots as they got closer, seemingly setting their fate in stone. The creak of the door, the pointing of the gun to a small boy, no older than fifteen. All she could see was herself, quivering on the floor with her father standing over her, and her brother stepping in between them. So that's what she did. She stepped in front of the boy, and she could hear three loud pops, she could feel pain, and she could see the blood and then-. Blackness. Darkness. Emma Maya Smith was dead.

She was prepared to die; she felt like she made an impact on those around her, and she was content with both her life and her death. What she was not prepared for, however, was to live.