As I woke, I was pushed down by the sheer dampness of the room. Darkness was all I could see. Now when I'm sitting here, contemplating my demise, I remember what happened to land me here.
I was walking somewhere dark. I don't remember where; somewhere suffocated by darkness and decadence. Suddenly a sound, a shuffling, behind me, follows me. There was nothing behind me that I could see. I still hear it. Suddenly a light; a crash; darkness. And when I woke up I was here. Here in this darkness; not able to breathe; waiting my death which is getting brought to me. It isn't my death I fear; it's what they will do to me before my death.
I, first, have to figure out why I'm here and who brought me. In this dreary room, I can't think straight. I don't remember much, almost nothing of the past. I don't remember who I angered or what I did to get here. I just remember darkness, eternal darkness...
Now I'm stuck in this... what is it? A room I guess. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but the dampness makes it seem like a gas chamber. I'm not gonna lie, I'm scared of death. I don't disagree with people who say death is just a relief of the impurities of life. But I also don't disagree with the people who say, "Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away." I'm indecisive in the subject of life. Life, to me, is a mystery not supposed to be solved. I love mysteries; I'm not the type of person to skip to the end of a book just to see the ending. I'm the type of person who reads every line in a book to make sure I don't miss a thing. Mystery is a thing to be revered and not to be reckoned with. Like this room for instance, it's a mystery. But I have to take back one thing I just said, it is a force to be reckoned with. This room is my enemy that I have to escape from. But I've been rambling, Lets get down to the basics.
My name is Harry Potter. Yes, I know my name is familiar to you, for many a reasons. I was the one to almost kill Voldemort when I was just a babe. Now, on the dawn of my sixth year, I have been through more then most adults. I have been on the verge of death so many times that I don't want to recall all of them. Most people don't get the severity of the pressure placed on me everyday. If I fail in anything, people will lose faith in me. They will lose faith in my ability to defeat evil every time it rears its ugly head. It's hard being a teenager with so much pressure, but I've gotten used to it. I was raised by muggles though, not knowing who I was or what I accomplished. But anybody reading this already knows about my childhood, so I won't bore you with my history. Though last year I came out physically unscathed, I lost many people close to me, including my uncle, who I've only known for a short time and was a convicted felon. He wasn't actually guilty but you already know that.
Coming back to the present, I'm not exactly sure why I'm here so I'll fill you in on what happened before I ended up in this place...
This past year I lost my uncle and now Voldemort is world-known as now being alive. For a teenager to accept all of this readily is a feat. I also learned that Dumbledore was withholding information from me. He knew that I will have to fight Voldemort in the end and one of us will die. He only withheld this information because he got too attached to me; he saw me as a son rather then a student. Don't take me wrong but he was foolish by getting attached to me since he might lose his life just defending mine. When I finally accepted the death of my uncle, I was just angry at him for leaving me, for leaving me to fight my life's fight