Authors note: This is my first fanfiction story, please be kind. I am not a native English speaker, so pardon me on any spelling and/or grammar errors. Pointing them out would be appreciated. Also, no flames! Constructive criticism is good. But no flames! Don't like? Don't read then! On with the story.
'Freak!'
'Abnormality!'
'Useless!'
'Bastard!'
'Fuck-up!'
'Freak of nature!'
'Screw-up!'
'Little good for nothing!'
The boy who can't do anything right. Its how the child in the cupboard began calling himself.
The cupboard was his home, the rest was the rest of the house. And then there was the bright.'
So lay thinking, the boy who can't do anything right. In his cupboard. It stank, there were cleaning stuffs, earlier when aunt began forcing him to clean up the house as well, on top of the cooking he was forced to do.
The cupboard was much smaller then Dudley's rooms, but then again, he was big and round. And he was small and thin. Maybe he deserved bigger rooms?
His mind could barely focus, drifting in and out. But one thought remained constant, he was not going to go on. If he was truly so horrible, then he would not be a burden anymore.
He crawled around, his head now laying to the small end. He couldn't move one of his arms and didn't feel his legs anymore. So he had to try and get there with one arm and his mouth and chin. The wood he would bite in to get a hold on, to crawl on tasted nasty. But not as nasty as things he's had before. It will be over soon.
He heads over to the green cleaning bottle. Green like the flash. It would be over quick and cruel, just like the green flash.
He grabbed the bottle and held it to his lips. The fluids started running.
'Not so fast, boy!' Uncle said as he moved the door open and dragged him out of his cupboard.
Gods, did they not allow him even the pleasure of slipping away? No. They would not, just like they had denied him the rest.
'God, Vernon, give him to me, I know how to get it out of his system, I learned that in nurse school' Petunia said, as she quickly got him into a heimlich grip, disgusted to be touching him.
As she flushed out the cleaning acids from the small boy, no freak. He was a freak of nature, she kept on talking. 'I don't like it either, Vernon. But who knows what those bastards would do….'
'I'm going to teach that freak a lesson, trying to get us into trouble with his kind' Vernon said as he started stomping on his legs and a arm. He'd still need to be able to do his chores.
The next day the boy who can't do anything right woke up, he hurt. This time he could feel the pain in his legs.
He felt bile come up, he moaned, trying to stop it . But he couldn't his body just needed to get it out. His throat hurt like the belt, but from within. He hadn't even been allowed that one thing. He would have to suffer it through.
'Screw-up! You better clan up that bile from you!' Uncle said, pointing red-faced to the bile outside the cupboard. 'And you better do the remaining tasks from yesterday too!'
AN : I tried to write it from 3rd perspective, but somehow within a young childs view. Please R/R!