Hey here's my new one-shot tell me what you think of it

Disclaimer: I only wished I owned HP

Petunia POV

Dudley sat in the furthest corner of the room, desperately trying not to dose off. I watched as his buzzed, blonde head bopped up and down, coming dangerously close to hitting the wall, fighting the inventible sleep.

I knew my time, was slowly ticking away. There wasn't more than two days left for me in this world. Which is way Dudley stayed with me, I knew he would rather be somewhere else. He would rather be with his wife; Hannah, as she brings their daughter for the first time to kings cross station platform 9 3/4.

He was everything to me, my joy, pride and life. I had once, at one time, thought him to be the perfect person in society. I was horribly wrong, the child I raised was a monster, a bully- and he spared none of it form me when he told me so 15 years ago.

I remember, sitting there in that safe house as Dudley poured everything onto the table. I remembered how much I had cried, and wished Vernon was there. So he too could here what we had done to our son.

But Vernon wasn't there; in fact he didn't even make it to the safe house. When the car got a flat tire, he wouldn't hear of the wizards "fixing it" using they're "nonsense". It was his own pride that killed him.

Harry was right, the Death Eaters were after us; they had been following us the entire time. When Vernon stepped out the car, they took the chance to attack us. I remembered Hestia grabbing my, hands than feeling the sensation of being sucked through a tube.

We had arrived right outside the boundaries of the safe house, which looked liked a broken down shaft in the middle of the country road. But it wasn't, at least not on the inside. Dedalus came back, saying that he couldn't fight them all, he couldn't save him. I cried for weeks and weeks, not eating nor sleeping.

But now, with stage four breast cancer, I could see that Vernon and I were meant to have an early death. It was a punishment for the, evil things we did. Vernon's death was quick, as Dedalus had reassured. One of the death eaters just looked at him and said, "you filthy muggle" and shot him with the death curse and he was gone.

But I am not as lucky as Vernon was, no. Being killed in degrees is far worse than being killed in an instant; I have been dying for the past five years. But that is a punishment well deserved for someone like me. Someone who treats family like crap.

A kid, so jealous of her own sister, she disregards her existence. A young lady, so full of hate, she bands her little sister from attending they're mother's funeral. A woman, so cruel she treated her blood nephew worst than most people would treat a street rat.

I hated thinking of what I did to Harry. Sleeping in a cupboard? How would you feel Petunia if your mother forced you to sleep in a cupboard, for something you couldn't change? How do you feel Petunia that you forced a four year old boy to clean a toilet with the brush he used on his teeth?

The questions haunted me, in daylight and in dream. I couldn't get a break from the conscience that was MIA for the past 40 years. I started having a fit, crying; I felt like I was suffocating. Than I started to cry, crying quickly turning into a coughing fit. Dudley's eyes snapped opened and he came swiftly over to me.

"Mom! Mom!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I say even though I wasn't, "go get Harry Dudders, please get Harry for me. I have to see his eyes," I pleaded.

He looked at me for a second than hurriedly, went to call his cousin. But emotions overwhelmed me again as the sight of Lily's dead body, remembering her last words to me, "Tuney talk to me, please! I miss you! I love you, please talk to me." I didn't even want to look at her back than.

I could see her lifeless body, her and James, both dead. As their last living member of their family besides Harry and Dudley, I was supposed to bury them. Instead,I had took one look at them and told the wizards to do whatever they liked with them. They had asked me to let Harry attend their funeral but I had said no. I kept my nephew from his parent's funeral just like I kept Lily's from our mothers.

The coughing and shocking came back again, this time harder than before. I couldn't bring myself to even lift to pull the emergency string. Please God I begged silently in my head, I didn't have the strength to speak any more. Don't I deserve to see my grandchildren one more time?

The coughs came in huge fits now, but they were so quiet, no one would here me. The coughs only stood one purpose to cut my oxygen supply and suffocate me. I was going to die, without seeing those eyes, those beautiful, bright, green eyes. They were her eyes Lily's eyes, my little sister, whom I had loved.

But those eyes were so much more. They were the eyes of the little boy's whom I had cared for and for a period of time had shown affection to. But they were also the eyes of the same little boy full of sadness and hurt the first time I'd shoved him underneath those stairs. I've always pushed away the one's I'd loved, and now I wouldn't get the chance again to say good bye. Not now or ever.

I knew I was dead, even as the nurses and doctors rushed into the room and started performing life-saving procedures. I started fading into the world of blackness ready to meet what was coming for me but not knowing what was awaiting me. I would never get the chance to see those eyes again. But than again Petunia Dursley didn't deserve it.

Yeah the title came to my head and I wrote a story to fit. Review.