This was a drabble I have had on my computer for a while. I wanted to maybe turn it into a one shot. But its short and to the point. I may feel loving and turn it into a actual story. But it depends on the feedback what I do. If you think it's interesting enough let me know. and f you haven't already figured it out...i don't own Harry Potter, if I did then you would prolly never hear from my rich ass again... just JK, Rowling! (yay for HP puns)
It's never like I thought my life would end up like it has. Left to my own devices I have successfully went from the Boy who lived to just another wizarding junkie. What started as a simple celebration has slowly turned into a never ending charade of lies. I can't even tell what is real anymore. I know it's not right, but everyone finds their own way to cope with life altering events. Mine is just more self-destructive than I could ever admit to myself. But this is my last shot at redemption. And I refuse to let it slip through my fingers. I have to do this; there is no more need to.
Harry felt his fingers tremble as he looked out onto the grounds of the new hospital that he would call home for the next 60 days. His mind still a bit fuzzy about how he ended up here, but one thing was clear he had died twice on his way here. And from what he was told he was lucky to even still be alive. But luck didn't mean much to a man who didn't hold any value to life anymore, he wasn't so sure that having an eternal sleep could be much worse than living.
So tell me what you think 3!
You just may grow to love suicidal, junkie Harry! I know I do.
Even if you don't like it, I would still love to know.