Kookaburra
A/n: I'm not really sure where this came from, but it's the first serious one shot I've done. I'm also working on a few stories right now, but I want to get a few chapters written first. I hope you read them, but it may take a while so bear with me. You can check out my profile for more information if you're interested.
On with the story. (by the way, italics will be like /italic/ because I'm on my iPod, sorry).

/Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree,/
The five year old girls high voice rang out in the empty dungeon, echoing off the walls, and almost making Voldemort cringe at the pitch and familiar words.
/merry merry king of the bush is he,/
The words were so familiar, the staff used to sing them to the other children. The 'good children'.
/laugh kookaburra, laugh kookaburra,/
He was always left out of those types of things, he was the freak. The one nobody wanted. Ever.
/gay your life must be,/
When he was younger, so very young and ignorant he used to be almost jealous of that bird, he seemed to have such a good life.

/Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree,/
Caitlyn focused on the words she was singing, blue eyes scrubbed up closed and blonde hair scraggly and matted with both blood and sweat.
/eating all the gun drops he can see,/
She was focused on the words, only the words. The familiar words. The words her mother had sung to her many a night. Concentrating on the memories that flooded her head.
/stop, kookaburra. Stop, kookaburra,/
Caitlyn couldn't help but pause in her singing as she tried to adjust to the overwhelming pain and ignore it at the same time.
/leave some there for me,/
She tried to ignore the pain to the best of her abilities, but it just wouldn't happen. Every time she got close to stop concentrating on it, it flared up again. She felt defeated.

/kookaburra sits in the old gum tree,/
The lyrics of that song pained him, but he wasn't sure how. It wasn't longing, it wasn't physical pain, it wasn't nostalgia. What was it?
/counting all the monkeys he can see,/
He remembered the gleeful smiles of the children. Such a contrast to the hate filled faces he was used to. Their bubbling laughter and sparkling eyes as they joined in the trivial merriment.
/stop kookaburra, stop kookaburra,/
He remembered longing to fit in, to be accepted. For the children and staff alike to treat him as a real person with feelings, rather than an emotionless freak.
/that's not a monkey it's me,/
He could just never win. He soon learned if the attempted to participate they would make his life hell.
/that's not a monkey that's me,/
He took a deep breath, trying to swallow all the unfamiliar emotions that were rising with the lyrics of the song.

/kookaburra sits on a rusty nail,/
Caitlyn's singing was broken up by her high pitched screams and random intervals.
/gets a boo-boo on his tail,/
Out of all the verses this was probably the one she could relate too most right now, even if her pain was more than just a simple cut.
/cry, kookaburra. Cry, kookaburra,/
Try as she may, a few tears escaped out of her eyes. She wanted to cry, it hurt so bad, but she didn't want to at the same time. Her parents didn't cry, after all. She wanted to be just like them.
/oh how life can be,/
Life was never fair, was it? She could never win. No one at school would have to go through this. It was always her.

/kookaburra sits on the railroad track,/
The song was coming to a close, now. They both knew.
/along came a train and smashes him flat,/
Voldemort's stomach was twisting in anticipation and Caitlyn was scared, she had only heard this verse once, and never sung it.
/poor, kookaburra. Poor, kookaburra,/
Caitlyn scrunched her eyes shut, and Voldemort twisted his lips into a threatening smirk.
/that's the end of that,/
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"