Harry – a Christmas as a kid
Harry watched as Dudley tore open another present. It was his twelfth. He had been counting. And another twelve were still under the tree. That made twenty-four. He would get a twenty-fifth later. As always. Was Dudley even able to count to twenty-five? Did it matter?
Harry glanced down on his presents. Socks and an old shirt from Dudley. More than he had gotten for his birthday. He looked up back at Dudley who had tossed away a book and tore open another present. Number thirteen.
Aunt Petunia was taking pictures while Uncle Vernon cheered his son on. Dudley pulled out a plastic gun that looked like the one they saw in the TV-ads.
Harry thought they were pretty cool. Maybe if Dudley got bored by it he could get a closer look. But he probably wouldn't allow it. Maybe after he broke it? It never took long with Dudley?
Harry just wished he had gotten his own. But he had learned long ago that would never happen. He should be glad he got what he did and could at least look at Dudley's stuff.
Harry perked up when Dudley pulled a bunch of films from the next present. Harry loved it when Dudley got films. If he was sneaky, he would be able to watch them as well.
He watched how Aunt Petunia planted a kiss on Dudley's cheek and he pulled a face.
Was this how all families looked? Would his life have looked like that if his parents hadn't died in the car-crash?
Sometimes Harry asked himself if it wouldn't have been better if he had died in the car-crash as well.