Disclaimer: If I owned the Harry Potterseries, it wouldn't be a children's book, if you get what I mean...
Oh, and Warning: This may seem a bit too dark and more than implies self harm.
A Little More Each Day
Xielle
"Everyday – again and again. Oneshot. Drabble."
Chapter 1: Flawed
- - -
Cut. Cut. Cut.
The flawless skin of his arm marred by bleeding, self-inflicted cuts.
He presses blade a little deeper more each day.
Everyday – cut a little more, then, sometimes, a little less – again and again, he's flawed a little more each day; captive, bleeding, and broken.
And everyday – bleed a little more, hurt much deeper than before – again and again, he heals; not bleeding, not ruined, not flawed.
Cut, heal, and repeat – again and again.
Because he can't be less than he's made out to be – he's not allowed to– beyond the sanctuary of his times alone.
And punishment from Voldemort for this – slow, gradual, but not quite suicide – would surely be something that kept him from his only form of self-reprieve.
Cut. Cut. Cut.
The flawless skin of his arm marred by bleeding, self-inflicted cuts.
It's an addiction – a delightfully, sinful addiction.
Cut, heal, and repeat – again and again.
No one knew, and no one will.
He's physically flawless. But he knows he is significantly flawed – the thought offers him a sense of morbid comfort – and always will be; always have been.
Voldemort's prisoner; pet – he's rebelling the only way he could; the worst way he can.
Cut, heal, and repeat – everyday, again and again.
01.21.08 - 01.22.08
End.
Maybe.