A.N. - Okay people, this is my first try at writing a fanfic, so here goes nothing. Please don't be afraid to give constructive criticism, just keep in mind that I have no beta and it's currently 1 AM.

One little, not very deep, cut. Looking down, looking at the blood trickling down my arms, into the sink, I reflected on my past. How did it come to this?

My mother would be so pissed at me if she found out. She'd go off about how she raised me to do better with my life. She'd go off about how I need to act more like her little princess again.

Well fuck her. I guess I'm just not her little princess anymore. I haven't been her princess since I was possessed by Voldemort. Another cut.

Look up. Look into my reflection's eyes, those horrible brown ones that i hate so much. So unlike his beautiful green ones. And what would Harry think? Would he be disgusted at the site of me with a razor blade to my arm, longing to feel it slicing through my flesh? To feel something after the months of nothingness? Probably.

He wouldn't realize that he started all this, when he pushed me away, all those years ago. That everything began in a tumbling cycle when he denied me the happiness I had been longing for my entire life. Switch arms. Another cut.

And my brothers? What would they care? They've never cared. I was just their baby sister that needed to be kept away from boys in the past, but never to have her feelings taken into consideration. Another cut.

There is an intricate pattern traced into my arms now. It's beautiful in its own way, really. I just don't think that anyone else would be able to see it, though. Not unless they are like me.

So how was it? Was it horrible? Was it good? Do you think I have any talent, any at all? Please review. Everything is welcome, flames will be kept so that I can burn Yule logs.