All that matters.
By: Ms. Prongs
Disclaimer: Um.. No own Harry Potter. I dunno if this is even original.. *shrugs*
Authors Notes: Here's what you get when I listen to The Cranberries "Put me down.". Not a poem, not a story. Just. Read?
**
So here I am today, at 17 years old I've finally grown. 5'10" is what I've reached now, not the tallest I know. But like anybody would notice? Does anybody care that a boy who until the age of 16 was no taller than 5'6" is now 4 inches taller, no I don't really think so. All anybody ever looks at me as is, "the boy who lived." or "Harry Potter".
Why can't anybody see me for who I am? Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter.
I wonder if anybody cares to know what I thought about this summer, I don't honestly think so, but here it is: I thought about who I really am.
Want to know what I found out? I'm nothing more than an idol to all those in the wizarding world, the boy with the scar on his forhead, the boy who defeated Lord Voldemort at 1 years old, the boy who's a hero.
What nobody see's is who I really am. I'm a 17 year old teenage boy with emerald green eyes, raven black hair, who's finally grown taller. Nobody looks at the finer details of my life, nobody cares to ask how I feel or what I think (Save for Hermione and Ron and Sirius of course).
Does anybody care that inside i'm dying? No.
Sure, my friends try to talk to me, my godfather tries to talk to me, but they don't really understand either. Ron's still jealous of me after all these years. I've thought about going up to him and asking him if he'd prefer to have my life. Though I can't see who'd want to be famous for having their parents killed in front of their eyes, yet surviving a curse meant to kill. Do you know that only Sirius, Dumbledore and I are the only 3 to really know what happened back in my 4th year during the Tri-wizard tournament?
That's another thing, 4th year, third task, the rebirth of Voldemort. Who's fault is this? Mine. I should have known! How could I have let Cedric take the cup with me? Why couldn't I have been greedy for once instead of having to share like always. Maybe if I were more like Malfoy, Cedric would still be alive today.
People ask me what it's like to be famous, to be the schools youngest and greatest seeker, to be the boy to defeat "You-know-who", to be the worlds youngest sign on for England's Quidditch team (they signed me last year for when I graduate this year.). Why can't anybody ask me "how are you doing today?" "Want to go out for lunch?" "You gonna be ok?"
Sometimes I feel like I'm not me anymore. I want to be me. I want to be normal! Damnit I'm so tired of all of this! I can't take it anymore!
It's so quiet where I am, I wonder if anybody heard me. Looking down at the ground as I walk I notice my hands are shaking, am I actually scared about what I'm going to do? No I can't be. I'm the "famous Harry Potter" I'm not allowed to be afraid.
What I wouldn't give to be a normal 17 year old wizard, with a girlfriend, friends, my parents yelling at me for my latest low mark in potions.
Sorrow. Pain. Hate. Anger. Guilt.
All the feelings that run through my veins at this very moment.
Sorrow: for the loss of my father, who at 21 years old was a talented auror, one hell of a Quidditch player, a loving husband and friend. For my mother, who because of me lost her life prematurely. Now nobody can enjoy looking into her eyes and seeing the sparkling joy that was Lily Potter.
Pain: I've caused so much in everybody's lives. Because of me people are in psyciatric wards, dead, injured..why does it have to be me to be the unlucky one. The bringer of pain?
Hate: To Voldemort, for ruining everybody's lives before and after I was born. For bringing fear into the lives of the Wizarding community even after his defeat. For killing a friend, my parents..and anybody else to die.
Anger: At both myself and him, me for letting it happen, and him for making it happen. Why didn't I see it before, how come I wasn't smart enough to realize the situation before he was brought back to full power?
Guilt: the most powerful feeling when increased by 10 fold. Everything bad that's happened in the last 17 years, is my fault. Family's torn apart, friends lost, a dark lord reborn, the wizarding world in terror once more. All eyes on me to do something about it.
And fear..fear for losing the battle I was destined to fight, fear that if I win it would have been in vain, fear for my life. Fear for my friends..
So this is what it comes down to. Raw emotion and thought, yes "the Boy who lived" is deeper than Gold and Silver. Forget money, forget power, forget fame. Please, everybody, just forget me.
Echoes of pain ring down the hallway, the scar at my forehead now burns but I ignore it. Because physical pain is nothing compared to emotional.
Right now I feel like curling up and dying, please god, tell me what I'm doing is right, maybe I'll be able to repent for the sins i've caused during my life, whether consious or not.
Well, here I go. The doors opening, it's either death, or life. It all comes down to this.
Am I ready?
Does it matter?
I don't want to die, mum..please, help me..
The silence is defening, my hearts pounding in my throat, I can't concentrate like I should be. What's the matter with me? Why am I so scared?
Because I'm facing destiny. Because this is who I am.
I'm Harry James Potter, 17 year old who's being run by his emotions, and his adrenaline.
Now is the time, the place, the choice. Right or Wrong.
I choose right.
I choose life.
Because..life is short enough as it is.
So wish me luck.
"Thomas, it's time to face your destiny." my voice comes out surprisingly strong.
Turning to face me I see his anger, so I step through the door and closer to him.
"It's time."
Because I'm not a hero, I'm not the boy who lived. I am me.
This is my destiny so I'll face it the way I know how.
With everything I have.
Whether I live or die I know who I am.
And that's all that matters.
**
Wierd.
Stupid.
"Dark and Depressing" Raves the new york times (........yeah. *snorts* right..like the New York times would read any of the pathetic stuff I write?) ((HAH! I got something in after editing! *inside joke*)) *looks at Ms. Padfoot nervously*
*points to the box below her*
Be nice and tell me what you think. It's not hard to click and review..
By: Ms. Prongs
Disclaimer: Um.. No own Harry Potter. I dunno if this is even original.. *shrugs*
Authors Notes: Here's what you get when I listen to The Cranberries "Put me down.". Not a poem, not a story. Just. Read?
**
So here I am today, at 17 years old I've finally grown. 5'10" is what I've reached now, not the tallest I know. But like anybody would notice? Does anybody care that a boy who until the age of 16 was no taller than 5'6" is now 4 inches taller, no I don't really think so. All anybody ever looks at me as is, "the boy who lived." or "Harry Potter".
Why can't anybody see me for who I am? Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter.
I wonder if anybody cares to know what I thought about this summer, I don't honestly think so, but here it is: I thought about who I really am.
Want to know what I found out? I'm nothing more than an idol to all those in the wizarding world, the boy with the scar on his forhead, the boy who defeated Lord Voldemort at 1 years old, the boy who's a hero.
What nobody see's is who I really am. I'm a 17 year old teenage boy with emerald green eyes, raven black hair, who's finally grown taller. Nobody looks at the finer details of my life, nobody cares to ask how I feel or what I think (Save for Hermione and Ron and Sirius of course).
Does anybody care that inside i'm dying? No.
Sure, my friends try to talk to me, my godfather tries to talk to me, but they don't really understand either. Ron's still jealous of me after all these years. I've thought about going up to him and asking him if he'd prefer to have my life. Though I can't see who'd want to be famous for having their parents killed in front of their eyes, yet surviving a curse meant to kill. Do you know that only Sirius, Dumbledore and I are the only 3 to really know what happened back in my 4th year during the Tri-wizard tournament?
That's another thing, 4th year, third task, the rebirth of Voldemort. Who's fault is this? Mine. I should have known! How could I have let Cedric take the cup with me? Why couldn't I have been greedy for once instead of having to share like always. Maybe if I were more like Malfoy, Cedric would still be alive today.
People ask me what it's like to be famous, to be the schools youngest and greatest seeker, to be the boy to defeat "You-know-who", to be the worlds youngest sign on for England's Quidditch team (they signed me last year for when I graduate this year.). Why can't anybody ask me "how are you doing today?" "Want to go out for lunch?" "You gonna be ok?"
Sometimes I feel like I'm not me anymore. I want to be me. I want to be normal! Damnit I'm so tired of all of this! I can't take it anymore!
It's so quiet where I am, I wonder if anybody heard me. Looking down at the ground as I walk I notice my hands are shaking, am I actually scared about what I'm going to do? No I can't be. I'm the "famous Harry Potter" I'm not allowed to be afraid.
What I wouldn't give to be a normal 17 year old wizard, with a girlfriend, friends, my parents yelling at me for my latest low mark in potions.
Sorrow. Pain. Hate. Anger. Guilt.
All the feelings that run through my veins at this very moment.
Sorrow: for the loss of my father, who at 21 years old was a talented auror, one hell of a Quidditch player, a loving husband and friend. For my mother, who because of me lost her life prematurely. Now nobody can enjoy looking into her eyes and seeing the sparkling joy that was Lily Potter.
Pain: I've caused so much in everybody's lives. Because of me people are in psyciatric wards, dead, injured..why does it have to be me to be the unlucky one. The bringer of pain?
Hate: To Voldemort, for ruining everybody's lives before and after I was born. For bringing fear into the lives of the Wizarding community even after his defeat. For killing a friend, my parents..and anybody else to die.
Anger: At both myself and him, me for letting it happen, and him for making it happen. Why didn't I see it before, how come I wasn't smart enough to realize the situation before he was brought back to full power?
Guilt: the most powerful feeling when increased by 10 fold. Everything bad that's happened in the last 17 years, is my fault. Family's torn apart, friends lost, a dark lord reborn, the wizarding world in terror once more. All eyes on me to do something about it.
And fear..fear for losing the battle I was destined to fight, fear that if I win it would have been in vain, fear for my life. Fear for my friends..
So this is what it comes down to. Raw emotion and thought, yes "the Boy who lived" is deeper than Gold and Silver. Forget money, forget power, forget fame. Please, everybody, just forget me.
Echoes of pain ring down the hallway, the scar at my forehead now burns but I ignore it. Because physical pain is nothing compared to emotional.
Right now I feel like curling up and dying, please god, tell me what I'm doing is right, maybe I'll be able to repent for the sins i've caused during my life, whether consious or not.
Well, here I go. The doors opening, it's either death, or life. It all comes down to this.
Am I ready?
Does it matter?
I don't want to die, mum..please, help me..
The silence is defening, my hearts pounding in my throat, I can't concentrate like I should be. What's the matter with me? Why am I so scared?
Because I'm facing destiny. Because this is who I am.
I'm Harry James Potter, 17 year old who's being run by his emotions, and his adrenaline.
Now is the time, the place, the choice. Right or Wrong.
I choose right.
I choose life.
Because..life is short enough as it is.
So wish me luck.
"Thomas, it's time to face your destiny." my voice comes out surprisingly strong.
Turning to face me I see his anger, so I step through the door and closer to him.
"It's time."
Because I'm not a hero, I'm not the boy who lived. I am me.
This is my destiny so I'll face it the way I know how.
With everything I have.
Whether I live or die I know who I am.
And that's all that matters.
**
Wierd.
Stupid.
"Dark and Depressing" Raves the new york times (........yeah. *snorts* right..like the New York times would read any of the pathetic stuff I write?) ((HAH! I got something in after editing! *inside joke*)) *looks at Ms. Padfoot nervously*
*points to the box below her*
Be nice and tell me what you think. It's not hard to click and review..
