My Life Alone
Thoughts
Alone, its always how I pictured myself in those younger years when I lay just like I am now in the cupboard under the stairs, nothing has changed really except that I am now lying on a proper bed, but still none the less I am alone. I remember the first time I felt that my life actually meant something....third year. I met my godfather; sure he wasn't perfect well eh was less than perfect I mean he was a wrongly convicted murderer. Then my life went back to meaning nothing once again when he died....fifth year. I hate it. Famous and alone is the best way to describe me.
An owl fluttered down onto the window sill; from where I was situated I could see that it was from Ron, the untidy scrawl summarized as much.
"Get lost, go back to Ron," I said sourly. I watched as it flew away with a strange satisfaction, I hadn't read any of the letters that had been sent to me, I don't know why I just didn't feel like any human contact from those with happy lives. None of them realize the pain the summer holidays upon me, as I listen to the Dursley's mouth my parents in the worst way possible, it only makes me sick with rage. I rolled off my bed and flattened myself on the ground so that I could reach the loose floorboard that was under my bed, from within that floorboard I pulled out a silver dagger, a beautiful thing it was, the gleaming silver so elegantly shaped to make it look like a snakes tail with a bronze handle shaped like a cross. I studied it closely, I had stolen it from Dudley, he probably bought it to threaten kids with on his nightly adventures with his gang, but I have better use for it. I stopped studying it and brought it slowly across my wrist, the pain felt desirable and I don't even know why but it did.
I watch the blood seep from my skin,
Like gentle pouring rain...
The blood ran the length of my elbow before I attempted wipe it off, if even a soft splatter landed on the carpet I would be caught out, or so I would be if my aunt or uncle dared to walk into my room. As if by reading my thoughts I heard footstep climbing hurriedly up the stairs, looking desperately around I found nothing in order to clean up my wrist, it wasn't a deep cut, I could never go too deep. I grabbed my wrist and held it tightly not a moment too soon; Dudley came bursting through the door,
"Mum, said you have to come down stairs for dinner and if you don't you will go hungry," he grunted; I stared at him before turning my back and sitting on the edge of my bed to show I was not moving. "FINE STARVE THEN!"
"Will do," I muttered spitefully as I heard the door slam forcefully, when I was sure he had gone I looked around my surroundings once more, there has to be something here, anything. I kicked open my trunk and shifted through its contents to find something to wrap around my wrist; my eyes fell upon a robe I had in third year, it was sure not to fit now. I tore a section from it and wrapped it tightly around the bleeding cut. I sat back onto the bed and stared dully around my bedroom, I noticed the knife lying on the ground beside the bed, it was still partly coated with my own blood I bent quickly and scooped it up just in case anyone else decided to venture in, or maybe Aunt Petunia will come up and have a go at me for not eating dinner. Stupid bitch, she tries to act civil to me and tries to make me eat because she knows what would happen if I die, Voldemort would take over the world, why I can never cut too deep. I stood beside the windowsill and looked down at the semi-dark night. I noticed the motorbike Dumbledore had me at the start of the summer holidays, just in case I needed a quick escape, that is to say most likely to escape from reality for I know that the deatheaters can't find me here so I would feel no need to escape from them, but escaping from reality was another thing. I need to escape.
A/N so what did you think? Please review...I know you want too. Some might think that it's morbid or something that's fine I can live with that. PLEASE REVIEW!