Confused
By fake-221
Authors note: please read and review
(Not carried on from any of the books or based on
a particular plot from any time in any of the books.)
How does it feel when the only person you can't seem to trust is yourself?
Harry knew exactly how it felt ………. Like this.
One stops believing in ones self when no one believes in them.
No one was comfortable in his company; no one wanted to be in his company.
Of course people didn't make this know to Harry, but he knew….. he saw the look in their eyes, looks of disappointment, sorrow and displeasure as he looked their way.
How can a life be worth living if you don't know what life is.
He hated himself for being so weak, but who was to stop him. Who was there to help?
No one. His was completely alone in the world, he'd never had so many friends but felt so alone.
He hated them all, their lies, their excuses, there perfect lifes, there perfect looks, they where everything he would never be. Strong, confident, positive, beautiful………
That expectation was always there though, he was the one would save everyone, the brave one, the intelligent one.
Why did he have to be that one?
Why did he have to be the person every one wanted him to be! Why couldn't he just be himself?
But that was the thing; he didn't know who he was anymore.
Pretence was what he did, everything was fake. A fake smile, a fake laugh, a fake personality. He would slip in and out of character around different people acting how they wanted him to act.
Around his closest friends he would laugh and joke, and make fun of others.
That was the thing he liked to do best; put others down. But what his friends didn't know was where this anger came from, this anger at himself which he would take out on other people….. this strong hatred he held for Malfoy was just an excuse for the deep loathing he felt for himself.
People would call him vein and laugh when they would catch him staring at his reflection in the mirror, but they didn't understand that he didn't like what he saw but couldn't help but look.
He would stare at himself stormy eyed for hours scrutinizing every inch of himself silent tears running down his cheeks.
The mirror was his worst enemy and best friend.
There was once things he liked about himself; but with every new negative, a positive fades away.
He would sit and watch everyone around him wishing that he could be someone else; anyone else but whom he was now.
There must be a way to rid myself of this pain he thought absent mindedly staring into space; there must be a way; there needed to be a way ………….
