Thanks for the Venom
Harry Potter was sitting on the windowsill in his small room, curling a piece of his black hair around his finger, while he sighed for the hundredth time that day. He was bored and nobody was home.
Everybody had gone to do either shopping, play football or "work"
as his uncle liked to call his little affair with his secretary.
He got off the sill and turned on his favorite CD, My Dying Bride,
and as the yelling and screaming filled his ears he sighed in relief to not have to think about how much his life sucked and how he wanted it to end.
Music still playing in the background, he crept downstairs to the kitchen to look for something to eat. Munching on and apple he'd found, he thought about the girl he had met two months ago. "Kim had been watching me for sometime," he thought to himself. "She saw that I was unhappy and said she had something to make me feel happier, and that I would love it. All I had to do was come back tomorrow and she would give it to me. And I thought sure why not, a little bit once won't hurt me."
After that day it had all go downhill. The little bit turned out to be a lot and not just a one time thing. The pressure of being ignored and not wanted by his family and betrayed by his friends made it too much for him and he used more and more of the drug. It was wonderful for the first hour or so,making everything beautiful, bright, swirly and it faded into awful, sad, depressing reality.
The front door slammed shut, snapping him back to the present time.
His uncle was home and, from the sound of it, in a bad mood.
Uncle Vernon stomped into the kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door,
rummaging inside for something to drink
"Hi uncle" said Harry timidly.
His uncle grunted, head still inside the fridge.
"How was your day?" he asked, trying not to upset him more.
But from the look on his face as he yanked it out of the fridge, told him he'd said to much.
"How was my day?" he growled slamming the refrigerator door and glaring at Harry. "HOW WAS MY DAY? Today was the worst day of my horrible life"
he roared, "because today I got another notice that I was being sued and my secretary quit on me!"
Harry flinched back as his uncle took a step toward him; that terrible look was back in his eyes and that sadistic smile he always saved for Harry, for when they were alone.
Once again the front door slammed shut, thankfully interrupting his advance.
Harry's aunt and cousin were home. He was covered in mud from playing football and she of course still looked as fresh as she had this morning.
Dinner time was a quiet affair; the only talking done was to ask for food to be passed around. After dinner everyone went their separate ways, Uncle Vernon to his study, his aunt to a friend's house for tea and her Dudley to his friends' house to play touch football. And he went to his room to listen to music and to think about ways to escape his dysfunctional family.
He decided to get his shower for that week. Taking everything he needed, including the hidden razor he had gotten from Kim, he went into his bathroom and locked the door. he sighed sadly as the warm water fell him. He hated his family and his life. He didn't want to be a part of it anymore. His thoughts drifted back to when Kim had given him the razor.
"Here," said Kim, handing her the razor.
"What's this for?" Harry had asked, looking from the razor back to Kim.
"To cut yourself with," Kim had snorted, "Duh."
"Ummmm....why would I want to do that?" Harry asked looking totally confused.
"Because it makes you feel better, like using drugs and I only used it once," Kim had said while smiling. Taking the razor, Harry had smiled back not knowing that Kim had AIDS.
After that he was hooked. Whenever something bad happened,he would go to his room, turn on his music and go into the bathroom. Once there he would pull out a dark towel and his razor and sit on the floor and start cutting his arms.
He had been doing it for a month already and scars littered his arms.
Now sitting on the bathroom floor after the uncle incident that morning,he watched the cuts seep blood onto the tile floor, and sighed sadly as he felt a wave of nausea come over him and black dots creeping into his vision.
About three weeks after Harry had started cutting he had felt sick, but had told himself it was just stress and kept cutting and doing drugs. He was still feeling bad even after a month had passed and he had noticed things happening to his body that hadn't happened before,
like hair loss and a few minutes of blindness. On Wednesday he told his aunt, but she had said nothing was wrong with him and he was just trying to get attention, but Harry had insisted that something was wrong with him and eventually his aunt took him to the doctor on Friday.
While sitting in the waiting room, his aunt turned to him. "You had better have something wrong with you for the money I'm paying," his aunt hissed hatefully. Harry who was about to answer her, was interrupted when his name was called out. Fearfully, he followed the nurse into the backroom. Five blood test and an hour later they where done, and the nurse they would call if they found anything.
It was now Monday and Harry had just gotten all the chores done and walked in the back door when there was a slapping sound and his face started to sting. He looked up to see his aunt and uncle standing there with disgusted looks on their faces.
"How did this happen?" Aunt Petunia growled at him.
"How did what happen?" asked Harry in a confused voice.
"HOW DID YOU GET AIDS!" screamed his aunt.
"I...I...I don't...k..know," sobbed a now very confused Harry while ducking as a vase crashed into the wall where his head had just been.
"Go to your room you disgusting, stupid little boy!" roared uncle Vernon.
Running to his room, he thought about what had just happened. He, Harry Potter had AIDS!
This combined with everything else that had happened to him, was just way to much for Harry to handle.
"I've nothing to live for." he sobbed into his pillow." I might as well kill myself for all they care!"
He sat up suddenly, no more tears coming out of his now possessed looking eyes. Harry looked around for something to hang himself with and found a very strong cord he was going to use for a school project.
"Yes, that will do nicely." he giggled dementedly to himself.
He walked calmly into the bathroom and shut and locked the door behind him. He grabbed his razor, tied the cord around his neck, stood on the bathroom chair, and just before shoving the chair away from himself, he cut these words into his arm.
THANKS FOR THE VENOM
The Headmaster came to Harry's house after the boy had missed the train. and the uncle would not respond to his letters. When Albus arrived and went upstairs to check Harry's room, he found he could not open the bathroom door. Breaking a hole into the door beside the lock, he opened the door and an awful smell drifted out. There was Harry's two week dead body, swinging in the air covered in flies with dried blood all over his arms.
Four days later Harry's relitives were charged with child abuse and neglect and sent to Azkaban.