Chapter 2: Life with a Dursley

A small, yet familiarly annoying buzzing sounded above me. What followed was equally familiar, a grunt then creaking of a mattress, the buzzing stops, and then a snort before snoring resumes. Sighing then rolling over, I let my mind wander. I have at least ten minutes before Aunt Petunia unlocks the cupboard door, my mistake at breakfast on Friday having forced them to lock me in over the weekend. I didn't blame them, it was my fault: I was clumsy. How was I supposed to learn if they didn't teach me?

TAP TAP TAP

"Up! Get up," a tiny scraping sound was my only preamble before my door was swung open and my blankets torn off me. Sitting up instinctively, my upper arm is pinched in my Aunt's fist as she half leads half drags me upstairs. "Ow...Aunty you're hurting m-" SMACK "shut up." Pressing my lips together, I walk in silence as she leads me to the bathroom. In the corner on the edge of the counter, there's a pile of cloth. It looks like a pile of pillow cases, but I know I'm expected to wear that to school. "Undress." The order is unnecessary, I know what to expect every morning. I take my pants off first, my nightshirt long enough to hang to my knees. I use the toilet while she gets the bath ready, the steam quickly filling the mirror over the sink with fog. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll be able to hold it until I get back from school, I don't get up right away when I'm done, wanting to stall as long as I can. I watch as Aunt Petunia gathers the soaps, I wonder if Dudley uses as much soap as I do… there's at least 5 bottles, though I have no idea what any of them say.

"Get in." I try to move slowly, to delay having to boil myself today, but the woman would have none of it, "I don't have time to coddle you boy now get your ass in the tub." Grabbing me by my arm again, she shoves me into the scalding water, letting me stand only long enough to take my shirt off before shoving me into a sit, then dousing my head with the cup in her other hand. My skin is instantly red, and my eyes sting as water gets in them, the smoke rising thickly off my hands as I try to rub the water out. I need to brace myself by putting my hands in the water as my head is roughly jerked back and forth, squeezing my eyes shut to avoid the soap that runs down my face. "Why does it knot like this? Do you rub oil in it? Maybe that's why it's so black…" I almost smile, but that wouldn't be a good idea, she'd start using her nails. After a few rounds of rinsing and scrubbing, she seems to be satisfied; at least, she rinses her hands and picks up the scrubber. After smothering the padding in the third kind of soap, she begins scrubbing my face raw. I try not to squirm but it hurts, so she holds my face steady by gripping my hair tightly, pulling it whenever I move. Fortunately, my face is small, so it doesn't last very long. She moves to my neck.

After scrubbing every inch of my skin raw, she finally drains the tub, grabbing my arm and pulling me to stand on the rug. She dries me roughly, making me rock back and forth as she dries my hair first then my body. Once I'm dry, she dresses me quickly, the shirt only slightly smaller than my night-shirt, hanging about mid-calf. The pants are just as baggy, a long shoelace able to hold them up, but the ends needing to be folded a few times before I can see my feet. Socks seem to be the only clothing I wear that fits me, mainly because they're the only thing I get from Aunt Petunia's hand me downs, and her feet are tiny. My shoes are quickly tied, then knotted. The lacing a little too tight to be comfortable, but at least they won't come off if I need to run later…

Maybe school will be different today…probably not, but a guy can hope right? After a quick breakfast of toast, I start working on my morning chores. Dusting the living room, shaking out the curtains and vacuuming anything that comes out of them, taking the cushions off the couch to vacuum underneath, putting them back on and vacuuming the top, shaking out the rugs on the back porch, cleaning the windows, wiping off the stove, clearing the other's breakfast dishes, doing the breakfast dishes, putting them away, then sweeping the kitchen. By the time I'm done, Dudley is finally ready for school. I was half hoping he would play sick so I could walk by myself today. But Dudley never walks to the bus, and if they're taking the car to the stop anyway, they figure they might as well give me a ride.

I never fight with Dudley in front of his parents, mainly because he never starts anything when they're around. But I do get in a few quick jabs with my words before I take off running. That's the only way to avoid Dudley nowadays… running. "Are we there yet? My legs are cramped… I'm thirsty..." I sigh; Dudley never stops complaining… it only gets worse when he pretends to cry all the time. Of course, he only does it to his parents and some of the teachers; he never does it around his friends.

Speaking of Dudley's friends… I could see their smirks from here. Resigning myself to my fate, I step out of the car as soon as it stops, out faster than Dudley, and quickly putting some distance between him and his friends. They immediately start laughing about something stupid, the noise of the car driving off not loud enough to drown them out. Five minutes until the bus came. Today could turn in either direction, maybe if I don't move and don't look at them, they'll just ignore me today…

"Hey freak… you just gonna stand there? Getcha ass over here" I sigh, I should've known… Piers never leaves me be…