Drip, drip, drip, drip,
Harry laid on his stomach on his bed, staring into nothingness. His once bright green eyes dull and lifeless, skin unhealthily pale underneath layers of filth.
Drip, drip, drip, drip,
He didn't notice the blood running down his arm that hung off the bed and steadily dripping onto the floor. He didn't notice his uncle raise his belt, blood flying off onto the walls and ceiling, to bring it crashing down onto his shredded back once more.
Drip, drip, drip, drip,
He didn't notice because with every drip of blood that landed on the floor Harry Potter, and his sanity, was dissapearing, fading into nothing.
Drip, drip, drip, drip
Harry Potter was no more.