Harry was fast asleep soon to be woken up by his aunt. He was merely five years old at the time and in a few months he would start his first year in school. A loud rapping woke the boy with a jump. With his heart pounding from surprise he knew his day was about to start again.

"Boy, get up," his aunt yelled as she unlocked the cupboard door. Harry quickly got dressed and went into the hallway.

"I need you to scrub the kitchen floor and when you're done do all the bathrooms," his aunt grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pushed him towards the kitchen. He stumbled and fell, landing on his knees with a thud. He felt his already bruised skin pain him as he hit the floor. He quickly got up and grabbed the bucket and sponge. As he scrubbed the floor on his hands and knees, he felt more pain emerged from the bruises on his knees. After some time he became used to it and the feeling went away. He finished the floors in the kitchen and bathrooms to the best of his ability and went back to the kitchen where his aunt, cousin, and uncle were sitting.

"Aunt Petunia, I'm done. Can I please have something to eat, please?" He asked as nicely as he could.

"I'll give you food when you deserve food," Aunt Petunia scolded. Harry looked over to his cousin, Dudley. He was ravenously eating his breakfast. Harry felt jealousy, sadness and hunger growing inside of him. He didn't understand why he did all the work and barely got fed, while Dudley did nothing and got all the food in the world.

"But Dudley gets food," He says with tears swelling up in his eyes. He hadn't eaten anything for two whole days.

"Boy, if your aunt says you don't deserve food, then you don't" His uncle admonished. A few tears fell from Harry's eyes as his stomach growled louder than usual.

"Don't you give me that look," His uncle got out from his chair and started approaching the boy. This caused Harry to back away slowly until he was up against a wall.

"You have given us so much grief over the last four years and this is how you thank us?" He grabbed Harry's shirt and lifted him a few inches off the ground. He slowly put him back on the floor and said, "Come with me." Harry didn't like the sound of that. He knew that he was only punished when he was alone with his uncle. He quietly followed his uncle, walking up the stairs. More tears streamed down his face, knowing exactly what he was in for. Once they were in the study, Vernon Dursley lifted his nephew so he was up against the wall at eye level with him.

"You do realize we didn't have to take you in after your parents got themselves killed," Harry could feel his uncle's breath on his face as he sounded each word, "We could've left you at an orphanage. They treat children much worse than we treat you. And this is how you decide to thank us? By asking for something you don't deserve?" Harry tried to stay as still as possible waiting for his punishment to end, not answering any of the questions. He knew what would happen to him if he did that.

"You know your parents never actually wanted you. They never loved you. That's why they got themselves killed." Vernon's fist went straight to Harry's stomach. The blow knocked the air right out of him. He could feel himself begin to hyperventilate, trying to get the air back into his lungs. Vernon began to drag him down the stairs, tightly gripping his wrist. Yet another bruise was sure to appear there later. Harry continued to try and catch his breath, but the thump of each step didn't help. Vernon then threw the small boy back into his cupboard, slamming the door shut and locking him up. He didn't say a word as he walked away.

The poor boy was left in the cupboard all alone, his stomach and back aching from the agitation to the bruises that were already there. He was still taking short small breaths from both the blow to his stomach and trying to stop the sound of sobs from slipping past his mouth. Once he could breathe normally again, his sobs turned into soft whimpers. He held his stomach in pain and closed his eyes. He felt his knobby knees shaking in fear. He didn't know when or if his uncle would come back and hurt him again.

Why couldn't I have parents who love me? Why can't I have a mommy that hugs me when I'm sad like what Dudley has? Harry thought to himself. He was now laying on his side with his thin legs pressed up against his chest. Thoughts like these ones passed through his mind for a while, but soon enough he calmed down. Yet he was not let out of his cupboard for the rest of the day.

The next morning Harry woke up to the sounds of his stomach growling. He felt like he was starving. This was his third day without any food. The only thing he had been allowed was some water, but that was it. The feeling of hunger also made his head feel dizzy. He really wanted something to eat, even if it was scraps of old food from the trash. He pushed on the cupboard door in hopes that it was unlocked, but it wasn't. He tried to look through the small slits in the door to try and figure out what time of day it was. It looked like it was still dark in the hallway, which meant no one had come downstairs yet. Harry knew that this meant he could be sitting in complete darkness, with no noise at all in his confined space for hours as he had done many times before. He much preferred being able to hear people walking around than having total silence.

In the midst of his thoughts he got a bad feeling in his lower abdomen, he needed to use the bathroom. To him that feeling was much worse than being hungry. At least when he was hungry he didn't make a mess of himself and get his uncle angrier. He tried to not think about it and go back to sleep. That would make the pain of hunger in his stomach and pressure on his bladder go away.

After an hour or so of not being able to sleep, the feeling needing to use the bathroom increased. He feared that he wouldn't be able to hold it in much longer because his small body wasn't very good at controlling his bladder. Finally he saw the lights flip on, someone was downstairs. He listened for the footsteps, wishing they'd stop at his door. They didn't. Starting to feel desperate, he softly knocked on the door to get the person's attention.

"What do you want?" he heard his aunt's shrill voice sound through the door.

"Can I use the bathroom, please, Aunt Petunia," he said timidly.

"No, and don't mess yourself either," She told him sternly, quickly walking away. Harry dreaded the answer. If he wasn't allowed to relieve himself soon, he knew he would wet himself. He sat there, trying to focus on not having the contents of his bladder spill all over the room. It was hard and he was sure he wouldn't last. Fifteen minutes later he was sweating, the feeling of needing to relieve himself was terrible. Suddenly he felt a warm liquid drip down his leg. He had failed and he was in trouble now, he knew his aunt or uncle would open the door, see him like this and he would be in trouble. He started crying softly as he emptied himself all over his pants and the cupboard floor. He would certainly be punished.

Almost immediately after he finished relieving himself, the cupboard door swung open. Standing there was his uncle. He looked down and saw the mess he had made every where. Harry looked up at the big beefy man, his face turning red with anger. Harry sat there frightened, with his eyes red from the crying and tears streaming down his face.

"What the hell are you doing, boy?" Uncle Vernon asked, grabbing the collar of Harry's shirt. He lifted him up once again and pinned the boy onto the wall.

"You are a freak and that's all you will ever be," He told him and slapped Harry in the face. He then dragged him outside and behind the house. He threw him on the ground and grabbed the garden hose. He turned the pressure on high and started spraying Harry. Harry cringed as the freezing water thrusted against his skin. It stung badly, so he tried to cover as much of his body as he could, but it was useless. If his uncle wanted him to feel pain, he would. Vernon Dursley didn't turn the water off until Harry was completely soaked and he had sprayed the boy to his content.

"Don't you dare come back inside until we tell you to," his uncle told him, putting down the hose and stomping back inside. Harry crawled over to a shady area under a tree to get out of the heat of the early morning. He laid there uncomfortably in his heavy, wet clothes, softly sobbing to himself.