Reflected Eyes

By: AvidBookLover2001

Warning: Self-Harm, Mention of Torture, Graphic

Ownership of Harry Potter remains with J.K Rowling

Please review and favorite

ONE-SHOT

"Why?"

That was the only question I was able to ask myself.

"Why did I kill those innocent people?"

"Why did they love me- a worthless murderer?"

"Why did you die, Sirius, Mum, Dad?

"Why? Why? Why?"

I hunched my shoulders as I rested my elbows on the edges of the sink, staring into the reflection on the mirror.

I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed the edges of my hair and pulled, desperately trying to take my mind off of death. My shoulders wracked as sobs overtook my body. I grasped the edge of my shirt and frantically yanked of the buttons and threw it off.

I stared at my mutilated body. The body that Voldemort- NO! Tom. I will not give him the satisfaction of following his rules!... The body that he destroyed.

There were scars everywhere. Slashes of pink skin, barely healing as I remembered the burning feeling and pain from when he pressed the cool blade to my soft skin and dragged.

The most prominent scars were words.

"Murderer"

"Worthless"

"Evil"

Carved into my skin were my own insecurities, as if I couldn't already escape them. As if they didn't need any more attention.

I grasped the edges of the sink and once more looked at my reflection. My face ridden with tears, my eyes bloodshot from exhaustion, and my hands, shaking from fear and guilt.

My desperate face glanced to the potion on the floor, then glanced back to my eyes. Could I possibly escape all of this? Could I just leave? Do I deserve to leave?

No, I deserve to suffer. I deserve to feel the pain and loss instead of the people I brought it on.

I picked up the potion and looked at it. I closed my eyes and threw it across the room, and heard it shatter. No! I needed to die more painfully. More tortured. More of what I deserved.

I carefully picked up my wand from where I had thrown it and slowly caressed it. It would bring my pain yet my release. It would bring my win yet my defeat. It would bring my happiness yet torture.

I grasped the wand and pointed it to my forearm. I was sick and disgusting. I needed to see how horrible I was.

I cast the curse that he had cast on me, countless times. The slash didn't go deep, yet it fulfilled its purpose.

"Masochistic"

There now I knew what I was… A masochistic murderer… Ironic.

I pushed the edge of the wand to my chest, right above my heart, where all of my pain resided.

I knew the curse. I knew every single way of saying, yet I still hesitated. I knew how it felt from how he used it on me, yet I still hesitated. Finally, I let go.

"Crucio"

Pain. Sharp, burning, horrible pain. I let it go on for five minutes then I had to pull back or I would go insane. A good punishment but it would haunt others, and I only wanted to hurt myself.

I said the words in my head. Forwards and backwards. Slowly and really fast. Finally, I was ready. I was ready to get punished. To get judged. To leave.

The edge of my wand poked my skin. I looked up at my reflection one last time. I looked into my haunted green eyes. I looked at myself.

"What has become of you now, Harry?"

I was looking into my eyes when I said it. When I said the curse. When I left. When I said goodbye.

"Avada Kedavra."

Goodbye, world. I'm sorry.