-
--
--
The fire crackled hungrily, destroying the perfect house that held many dark secrets. "I'm going to burn away all traces of freakishness from this place!" came the voice that the boy had heard all of his life, but, never had he been the object of his parent's odium. The boy was. He saw how hard the boy tried to stay away from the rage. He saw how helpless the boy was, but he would never lift one finger to help the boy. He couldn't.
Tonight, because of his unwillingness, he was about to watch a horror that he could've prevented, one that he could've stopped. Perhaps he should help the boy, after all, he was related to him. "Quick! Get in the car! We're leaving!" He didn't know what to do. Should he leave the boy in there to die? They had taken his wand and burned it as he was tied to the chair and locked in the cupboard. If he left, he would leave a boy to die. This is what his parents were doing, leaving him to die. He would be burned like the witches at the stake.
"Dudley, get in the car now!" The voice left no tone for argument and he turned his horrified gaze from house. There were sirens in the distance and he knew that they would not know where to look. "No." This time it had been his own voice and he knew now, that no matter how much he had hated his cousin before, he would not leave him there to die.
"Petunia! Stay in the car!"
"But my baby! My dinkyduddems!"
He heard the screeching of tires on the blacktop. He heard his mother frantic crying. Not for the first time, he was disgusted. He knew he would not stay here for very long, just long enough to tell where the boy was. He hadn't the strength or courage to face the boy, nor anybody else.
His gaze was once again placed upon the house, waiting for the sirens to come closer.
"I'm sorry."
-
--
--