My Story
My old life had been horrible. I had lived with people who I considered only family by blood. They had taken it upon themselves to make my life a living hell. I was brought to them when I was just over one year old, because they were the only living relatives.
As soon as I was old enough I was put to use. To have food and shelter I was to do choirs. I cooked all their meals. At first I didn't know how, and had burnt myself many times. So I taught myself. I perfected it by the time I was four and a half. I was their slave. I didn't know that it was illegal. I grew up that way. It was my life.
When I turned five my uncle had lost his job, and had started drinking. He blamed me for it. That was when the beatings started. At first it was not so bad. A few slaps and hits until, he found out he was going bankrupt. Things got worse from there, he had broken my bones and cut me with knives. Every night around nine was when I was thrown back into my space under the stairs. I lay there every night wishing someone would come and save me and love me like my aunt loved my cousin.
A couple of months after this had started , strange things began happening. One night after an incredibly harsh beating, I had cried wishing the pain would go away. To my astonishment I woke up with only a few bruises. When I was running from my cousin one day, I had found myself on another street and my pursuer on the same street that I had left. When my uncle had broken my arm it was healed within a few days.
I thought this only a coincidence and never thought of it. Then my uncle had asked me, quite roughly, what had happened to my wounds. And I had answered that they had just disappeared 'like magic'. When I had said this, I was beaten up, past unconsciousness. After I had woken up, I was told never to say the M word and received more beatings.
After that my uncle found a job and stopped drinking. But the beatings and punishments continued on and I began losing hope that someone would save me.
On my seventh birthday, my aunt and uncle were going to take my cousin to stonehenge, but I was not trusted alone. My usual sitter was away and no one was available to watch me. So they had no choice but to take me, promising that if I did anything bad I would be punished. This is where my story actually starts.
On the trip nothing unusual happened. We had arrived and had gone on the tour. The tour had intrigued me. But my uncle had gotten angary that I liked it more than my cousin. So when everyone was looking around he grabbed me and dragged me to a secluded meadow on the side of a massive hill. Uncle Vernon, had started to beat me. This beating was much worse than all the others and within five minutes I had broken a lot of bones and he stabbed me with his pocket knife. After a while when he usually stopped he made the beatings worse, by stabbing me on my shoulder making me cry out. I panicked. A wind picked up and my uncle suddenly backed up looking at me like I was a freak. Just before I blacked out I thought I saw blue sparks.
Now I, Harry James Potter can tell you about my struggles and finding happiness. This is My Story.
