Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter!

A/N: Part of a challenge.

If You Dare: 742. Red as Blood

Are You Crazy Enough?: 63: (book title) Trapped.

1 June 1995

Dear Help,

I woke up bright and early this morning. I just got home to the Dursley's from Hogwarts Express. I know I'm in for a world of hell just like every other summer.

By 7:15, I was downstairs making breakfast for "little Dudley-kins."

I felt my eyes droop as I stood over the bacon making sure it didn't burn. I'd had another nightmare about what happened at the graveyard just a few weeks ago. My scar has been the cause of relentless headaches ever since Lord Voldemort returned.

As my mind wandered I wondered if anyone would come and rescue me from living here. I highly doubted it. In fact, I knew they wouldn't because of the stupid protection that this house gives me.

No, they say. The-Boy-Who-Lived is strong, they say. He defeated Lord Voldemort, they say. His family wouldn't dare lay a finger on him, they say.

But they would. My only blood relatives would dare hit me, and punch me, and hurt me until I begged for mercy or death. Despite what the wizarding world may think, I am not strong. I am weak and helpless.

I heard a loud stomping coming from the stairs and was just putting breakfast on the table when Dudley and Uncle Vernon walked in. My uncle had his eyes narrowed into slits that reminded me eerily of Voldemort. His face was purple when he growled, "That was very close timing, boy."

I looked down at the floor and whispered quietly, "I'll be better tomorrow." I have to be better tomorrow. If I'm not, that'll be just one more day my uncle has an excuse to punish me. I cannot allow that to happen.

He thrust a piece of paper at me and said, "Damn, right you'll be better tomorrow. Now, you listen here, boy. You have all of these chores done by the end of the day, or you'll be in a world of pain." He glared at me and I nodded. There was nothing else I could do besides agree, even though there was no way I'd have all of it done by the time he got home. He grunted and sat down to eat his breakfast. I watched in solemn silence by the sink, my hands working on washing the dishes on their own.

So much for trying to save me a couple days of pain.

I worked the first half of the day outside when the heat of the day was manageable and went inside for the second part of the day when it was much hotter.

Sure enough, I'd finished only three-quarters of the list when I see Uncle Vernon's car pull into the driveway. He got out of the car and walked in the door, and immediately laid his eyes on me scrubbing the floor. Clearly, he did not want to see the freak first thing when he got home from work. I put my head down so as not to provoke him by making eye contact. "Get up!" was the first thing he said to me. I stood up.

He pushed me up the stairs to my room and locked me in while he greeted the rest of the family. I knew better than to hope he'd forget about me. He's never failed to give me my daily beating to this day. I doubted he'd want to break the pattern he takes so much pride in.

I sat on my bed and counted the dreadful seconds until Uncle Vernon came in and gives me a whooping.

My heart raced when I heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs. My stomach twisted into a knot as Uncle Vernon's huge figure appeared in my doorway with a belt in his hand. He lumbered over and started slapping every inch of me he can reach with the belt. He struck me mercilessly over and over with the belt until he was panting and finally straightened up and left without a word. He didn't say anything throughout the entire ordeal which somehow seemed worse than if he had said something.

I lay where he left me and replay what happened in my mind over for a while. Was I laying there 30 minutes? An hour?

I don't know, but here I am now, writing to you. I may not know who you are, but I hope that when you read this you'll try to save me. But then again, who will read this? How will you get this? Will I be dead by the time you read this? I can really only hope.

If I am dead, I hope that I'll be remembered for something that I actually did. Like, try. I don't know why Voldemort disappeared after he tried to kill me. I don't know how I did it if I did anything. All I know is that he's back.

But even if I am dead right now, while you read this, I hope I'm known for how hard I tried to survive. How I tried to overcome all the obstacles gave thrust in front of me.

It's almost 9 o'clock. I really should get some sleep. So, good night, I guess.

Please review! Let me know what you want more of, what you want less of, if you want me to include what's going on other places as well, etc.

This also has no ending in sight and will just be a diary. I will give a day-by-day account of Harry's summer to you guys and hope for the best I guess. :3

Thanks for reading!