January 6, 1985
Two months had gone by since Harry had been incorporated into the orphanage. Two months Harry had been dressed in his strict uniform, walking quickly around the building trying to keep with his tight schedule. Two months he'd been subject to Jonathan's brutal keeping and retaliating against the older kids who thought they could hurt him.
The worst beating he had taken from any of them was on his second day at the orphanage. The day he had decided that he would be the one inflicting pain on everyone else. But his pranks had only resulted in the opposite- they beat him till he couldn't breathe. Till he couldn't move out of his own bed without feeling like dying.
He had starved himself the first week. Refusing to move from the comfort of his room and suffer under the stress of his injuries. Someone must have told Jonathan what happened as he came to visit Harry once and saw why he hadn't left his room. But, Harry thought, Jonathan didn't find out that the people who hurt him were living under the same roof as him. Otherwise Harry should have been able to hear them getting into trouble.
Unless they just weren't punished, Harry vehemently thought, Jonathan doesn't like anyone in this hell, why would he stand up for me?
It was true. In reality, when Jonathan had come into his room and saw the marks on Harry, and the sheepish looks on the oldest boys, he knew. He just chose to ignore the evidence.
It wasn't until days later when the hunger really won out that Harry ventured down to the kitchen and got something to eat. On his way back he had stopped in the washroom to relieve himself.
The sight that greeted him wasn't pleasant. He had a single black eye only slightly swollen after the week of recovery. The left side of his face was bruised from hairline to chin, and continued down under his shirt. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, the red clashing with the dead green. And his head pounded, the burn vibrating with his heartbeat and sending shivers down his body.
Two months later and majority of his injuries had healed. Only the nastiest of the bruises remained, and even then, they were starting to fade. During the day, Harry could wear the long sleeves and pants of his uniform dutifully unrolled to conceal the marks.
Harry had never felt peace. But sitting in his nook he was at his most calm. He could sit for hours in the tranquility that it provided him, and the time would unknowingly pass by.
In his spot, he could forget the misgivings the gang of boys had poured into him, and lose the pain. The roots of the tree which he sat on were curved perfectly to cradle his body, and his feet just reached the edge of the grass.
Harry was brought out of his reverie by the sound of his stomach gurgling. Looking down at his watch, the battered display showed that it was just past 12 o'clock. Lunch time.
Closing his ratty book that he had obtained from the library, Harry rose to his feet. He patted down his pockets and checked all around him to be certain that he had all his belongings, then started off.
Making his way around the big old tree Harry dusted off small particles of snow which had gathered on his clothes. The winter's bite wasn't as cold as it normally was, so it wasn't necessary to wear a winter jacket, and the ice on the water glittered in the sun, which could be blinding. But the beautiful scene experienced as a whole was beautiful.
The trek back to the building was slightly irritating. At certain points the snow was deep enough that it overflowed into Harry's shoes and flooded his toes with ice.
Stepping up onto the back deck, he was thankful to be able to stomp his shoes on a hard flat surface and shake the snow off his soles. The loose snow fell down and littered the deck in small clumps which Harry pushed over the ledge to land on the ground.
Pulling open the door Harry stepped inside and untied the laces. One by one he pulled the soaking shoes off his socked feet and held them by his fingers in one hand.
Silently padding his socked feet across the floor, he attempted to go unnoticed on his journey. The building seemed eerily silent to Harry, in all his time being there, it had hardly ever been quiet.
Looking over his shoulder he realized that his socks were damp and had been leaving a trail of small feet behind him. Hopefully, it would dry before anyone saw them.
The wet footsteps trailed around the empty corridor and towards the stairs. On each stair a single print was laid as he journeyed upwards.
He reached his room and sighed as he heard the doorbell ring through the building. A new family was on their way today in order to adopt a child. Which meant another day of pretending to be the perfect child to get picked by them and have a home.
Knowing he had some time to spare before he had to meet the new couple, Harry grabbed a clean set of his uniform and ducked through the hall into the washroom.
Under the floor beneath his feet, Harry knew that Jonathan would be greeting the people at the door before welcoming them into the orphanage. The process was always the same, the guardian would lead the strangers into a room off to the side, with comfy chairs and a coffee table with tea and biscuits- a room strictly off limits to Harry and the other children. Then they would laugh about something, get to know one another, and then it would get serious.
Harry had, out of curiosity, listened in once on Jonathan's important and comical lecture. It was always the same, the brute man would tell the soon to be parents about how to care for a child and what the law required them to do. As well as warn them to give the child their love. To the people, it would show that Jonathan actually cared about the wellbeing of his wards and that he wanted to find the perfect home for a child and not the perfect child for the home.
Harry suspected that wasn't true. Harry suspected that as much as Jonathan wanted to be rid of the children, he only wanted the best behaved children to go so as to give the orphanage a good reputation.
The tap in the bath tub sprayed cold water and Harry hastily turned it up a notch. He peeled his wet socks from his feet and doused them in the water and hung them off the edge to dry. Next into the water was his own feet. One by one they stepped into the warmth of the moving water.
To his left was a bar of soap, which Harry grabbed and rubbed it to a lather. He cleaned his feet and scrubbed them till they were raw and shut the tap off. Grabbing a towel he stripped the droplets of water from his body and absorbed them into the towel. Climbing out of the tub was the same as climbing in; one foot out followed by the other.
His bare feet snuggled comfortably into the soft mat just outside the tub, and he dropped the lid before sitting back onto the toilet. The cold of the metal seeped only slightly through the back of his pants. His right foot lifted across his knee as he grabbed his foot to pull on a sock, he saw that his feet were beet red from the temperature of the water.
Knowing his toes were under a protective casing of cotton, he stripped down to his boxers and folded the muddy clothes. The clean uniform slid easily along his body as he pulled each part on. The pile at his feet, he didn't bother to fold, instead throwing them into a half full hamper of dirty laundry. He wasn't scared he'd lose track of his uniform in the wash, all the students labelled their clothing with perfectly hemmed bold print.
His hair was the next to get freshened up. He pulled a comb through the untamable mop ridding it of any knots or tangles, and in the process causing it to frizz even more. Whatever, it would never appeal to anyone's tastes, but it was much more appealing to Harry's if the puff fell over his eyes and shielded him from the world.
Content with his work to make himself presentable, he smoothed his hand down the front of his shirt and turned the doorknob. The hallway seemed deserted with all the children playing downstairs hoping to take the attention of their guests. He walked quietly and close to the wall, dragging his hand playfully as he walked. Each time he passed a door, his arm would bend while touching the frame and extend when reaching for the door. Each foot twirled outwards and in, like a dance in motion.
The stairs loomed ahead of him, darkened in shadow but advertising a bright future as the bottom was glowing in light from the window. His feet thumped as he stepped down, hand holding the rail.
Turning around the bottom, he found the door to Jonathan's office slightly opened, giving him the first glance of the visitors, but only the backs of their heads. The man had his arm reaching out, holding onto his wife's hand and carefully displaying the glinting wedding ring. His hair was a luscious brown rich with life and waved down below his ears. And his shoulders were broad, used to hard work and physical activity.
The women was the opposite, her petite body extended long legs across the carpeted floor, feet enclosed in a pair of black leather boots. The blonde hair fell cascading down her back, only the top being in a ponytail. Her pink shirt fitted her perfectly, falling smoothly over her shoulders.
Although they couldn't see him from where they sat, Jonathan could and he hurriedly motioned for Harry to go. The manager's motion gave Harry away, and the couple turned their heads to see the distraction. Harry couldn't move fast enough to prevent them from seeing him, but he was certain they didn't see his face. They, like all the other families wouldn't want Harry, they would take home some other child. As he scrambled away, he heard the door shut softly, Jonathan wouldn't slam any doors or use all his strength in the presence of adopters.
Finding himself in the room of children attempting to look perfect he found himself a dark corner, waiting for this waste of time to be over.
He didn't have to wait long before the newcomers appeared in the doorway, searching through the inhabitants of the room. As they approached a kid opposite to him, Harry took that as an opportunity to leave, they'd already singled someone out who'd obviously go home with them, so he shouldn't need to stay.
As he reached the door he heard a deep voice behind him, "Hey buddy, wait up. Where you going?" Knowing it wasn't for him as no one wanted him, he continued walking.
It wasn't till he reached the front door, ready to change into some outdoor shoes that he felt a hand on his shoulder. Although big, it was surprisingly soft and turned him with an immeasurable amount of care.
The broad man who had been in Jonathan's office was in front of him, bending down so that he crouched eye level with Harry, "Hey, I asked where you going? I'm Joe."
To say Harry was startled would be an understatement, no one had ever sought him out, "I was just going outside."
His shoes squeaked as he rose to his full height and reached over him to get the door, "Mind if I tag along? I think this place is getting a bit too stuffy for me."
Side by side they walked out and onto the yellow grass uncovered by having the snow pushed aside, the mud didn't seem to bother Joe. "Did you want to play ball with me?" It was only then Harry noticed the midget football in his hands.
They hadn't been throwing the ball back and forth long before Joe spoke again, "What's your name?"
Finding no reason not to answer the nice man, Harry did, "I'm Harry, sir. What're you doing out here with me? Shouldn't you be inside with the others?"
"Probably, but I'd rather be outside having a good game- I like sports you see, do you?"
Although Harry didn't, he couldn't understand why he nodded his head yes. Perhaps the man was too nice that Harry couldn't help but but agree with him.
The day faded away, the two of them laughing away in the cool breeze having a good time. "Did you want to go inside and talk with my wife? I think she'd like to get to know you?"
Harry knew where this was going, the glow he felt was building up inside him. For the first time in a long while he felt hope that he would escape the hell of an orphanage.
He followed Joe into the building where they met up with his wife, in the hallway he noticed another kid glaring at him out of the corner of his eye. She was already waiting inside the office which Jonathan had led them into beforehand. When they entered she was moving away from the window, having been watching them interact outside.
"Harry meet my wife Joanne." Joe crossed the threshold to reach his wife and give her a quick peck on the lips. The two of them sat together where Harry had caught his first glimpse of them and Harry took over Jonathan's lonely seat.
"If it's alright with you Harry, I was wondering if you'd like to come and live with Joanne and I? What do you say?" Joe whispered to him, prodding at him through the silence.
Harry let a grin slide across his face and that was all it took for Joe to throw the ball back at him. But it wasn't planned and the shot was poorly aimed, instead of travelling towards Harry's hands it flew towards his side. Just behind him on the right stood a looming bookshelf filled with fine china that Jonathan had collected. Although strict, the grown man had a passion for the glass and silverware.
After staying at the orphanage for some time, Harry had been so attuned to things that might grant him a punishment, and this was one of them. Without thinking of the fact that he was about to go home with a new family, he felt fear.
The panic was consuming him quickly the farther the ball travelled. Ready to duck out of the room and escape jonathan's wrath, the ball stopped. It hovered mid air directly in front of the breakables, close enough that it could almost tap them.
As quickly as the disaster had been avoided, a new one came to life as the ball dropped to the floor. Turning to the couple, Harry saw their eyes were glued to where the ball had been floating and lowered to it on the ground.
Two words tumbled out of Harry's mouth, which he had said countless times in the house of his aunt and uncle, "I'm sorry."
His words snapped them out of their reverie to lift their gazes to him. Their eyes showed him the one thing he hated most but had seen countless times before.
Too many times he had seen his aunt and uncle glance at him like that and cast him aside as an outsider. They flapped their mouths open and close, trying and reaching for words that would stick in their head.
Joanne was the first to recover, "No, I'm sorry." She started, "I think it would be best if perhaps we looked around more to see if we'd rather take home someone better for us." I think it would be best if we don't associate with you.
"That would be for the best, it's not that we don't want you, it's that Jonathan cautioned us to make sure we find the perfect kid to fit our home." We just don't want you.
Their faces countered their words and showed him their true meaning. People always feared what they didn't understand. The crack in his heart spread wider every second as the pain of their rejection thrived inside him.
"Why don't you go find something to do while we look around?" Why don't you leave because nobody wants you?
Harry moved past them, walking slowly in an attempt to not embarrass himself by running crying out of the room. No matter how hard he tried to prevent it, his eyes burned as they filled with liquid, but he refused to let any tears trail down his face.
When he stepped out the door, he spun to look at them one more time. The window caught their heads and glowed like a halo on an angel. The lovely angels had almost rescued him from the fiery depths of hell the orphanage resembled. They were so close to taking him away, but still so far away.
Before Harry's own eyes, the beautiful angels began to morph. Their skin bubbled and stretch across their body, faces growing both pointier and rounder. They both grew in their own shoes slightly and the clothes changed with them.
Standing in front of him were the Angels reincarnated as Harry's own personal demons. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon wrapped their arms around one another in the sketchy relationship they'd always had. They glowered down at Harry, beedie eyes hastily seeking him out.
"It was nice to meet you Harry, maybe we'll see you around." Uncle Vernon's lips didn't form around the words, instead shaping out new ones, "You're a terrible child, for my own sake, I hope we never meet again."
"Although it might not be us, there's someone out there who will welcome you into their house." From his aunt became, "We don't love you and no one else will."
As the door slowly closed to hide his old family, Harry imagined his aunt and uncle were laughing at the pain they had caused all in that day.
When it clicked shut, Harry bolted. His small legs took the stairs two at a time trampling the uneven blocks heavily. Another kid stood along the railing, and Harry hastily shoved him out of the way, wanting to escape.
He stumbled through the hallway, wishing no one would interrupt him as he went. Someone must've heard his prayers as not a soul existed in the endless corridor.
Harry burst through the solid wood into his room, door slamming into the wall behind. As quickly as he had opened it, he pulled it shut and braced both hands against the brown pattern.
His eyes burned and his chest fell as he slowly exhaled shaky breaths then leant his forehead to the cool surface. One by one he let the tears fall, letting himself feel all of the pain anyone had ever made him feel. The pain shattered his cracked heart and turned it to stone. The pain of his falling tears turned to hate.
His hate was accompanied by his anger. A fiery beast which roared inside him at the idea of anyone causing Harry harm.
A shuddering feeling resounded through his small room and a crackling met his ears. Opening his eyes from the leaking tears, Harry turned around.
His large dresser stood quaking on the floor, encompassed in a blazing flame. It created a calming trance on Harry, the fire raged on in time with his own rage.
Hey guys, long time no see. So I no longer have an prepared chapters, so updates will become more spaced. Thanks for understanding!