A/N: O.K., I'm relaly sorry for not posting sooner. I had writers block and stuff, so you know how that goes. Well, thanks everyone for reviewing and please continue! I don't own any Harry Potter characters. And, I'm still kinda in writers block so if you people could help me out.....please? come on, im desperate (but not desperate enough to ruin this story and have snape run up in a pink tuto....ok ill stop giving u ideas.). I don't know where I'm going....well...I kinda do....hum de dum.... I'll say it again.... PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! I LOVE REVIEWS! PLEASE? I'LL BEG. OH AND IF ANY OF U HAVE THE LINKIN PARK CD OR THE SONG 'PAPERCUT' LISTEN TO THAT WHILE YOUR READING THIS. IT KINDA HAS AN EFFECT....well.....i said kinda.
Paranoia struck Harry. He was constantly awake, he hadn't slept in days. His eyes were covered with dark circles yet his eyes seemed wide awake, afraid of closing. His whole body was hit with pain. He hadn't talked since the nightmare. Hadn't slept. Hadn't even eaten despite the constant bothers of everyone.
He was raging a constant battle inside himself. Part of him was still the same person, still the same Harry, the person that everyone knew. Or thought they knew.
The rest of him was taking over, a mix of rage and anger and fear. Harry had never felt this before. Something was pulling him deeper and deeper everytime he recalled his events.
He had been kept inside the hospital wing, perhaps because everyone was afraid of him. And Harry didn't care. He was sick of everyone treating him like a freak. He hated his life.
Even though he hadn't talked, they were still treating him as though he couldn't hear. And every time they would talk quietly about sending him to and insane asylum he would roll his eyes. If only they truly understood.
He wanted to talk, to yell at them. But that's what they wanted. Sirius was forced to go back because people had begun to suspect. Harry didn't say good-bye, didn't even acknowledge his presence Harry was trapped. Trapped inside his own body.
So maybe he was insane. It didn't bother him at all. What did bother him was the fact that he was deadly. This was mostly the reason he began pushing everyone away. He decided to not to care for anyone. Because, how can Voldermont kill his friends if he didn't have any? This was just another way to protect them...
The voice had been haunting him. The voice that had been haunting him ever since it had happened. Cedric Diggory's voice would torment him in his sleep and everywhere he went.
A new hot wave of anger rushed over him as he tried to block out anything that reminded him of what he had become. Of the monster he was. He knew how much anger he had lately, but he kept it inside. Nobody needed to know how much he wanted a family. How much he hated killing people. How he wished that life for him would end so that he wouldn't have to feel this way again. He was selfish and he knew it. But he didn't care. This was his life.
He had Hermoine and Ron visit him. They would sit uncomfortably and look at him. As soon as he would look back, they would lower their gaze. He wouldn't talk, even if they started a conversation. 'They haven't visited in over 2 weeks though. That means their beginning to forget. Forget how close we were. It's finally working.'
Harry had looked at himself in a mirror the other day. He had grimaced at his reflection. His scar had remained bloody, his body skinner then ever before. His eyes had been covered in dark circles. His green eyes had dulled over. They didn't even look the same. 'I don't even look the same. I can't even recognize myself.'
His nightmares had made him afraid of going to sleep. They would start with a happy life of everyone he had ever 'killed' alive. Then, they would disappear and Harry was left in a graveyard as it rained. Their voices whispered in his ears. Sometimes he couldn't remember what they would say, but when he did remember, the voices would be yelling at him. Angry that he had betrayed them. Yes, that's what Harry was. A betrayer. Harry Potter the betrayer.
The prophecy had left him confused too. He would have asked someone, Hermoine, Sirius, Dumbladore or even Ron. But he wasn't talking in an effort to keep them safe. But, when he thought about the prophecy, his mind would ring, like he remembered it from somewhere. Or maybe, he hadn't heard of it, just felt connected. And then, he would snort and yell mentally at himself for being so stupid. 'My gosh Harry. Your a complete basket case.'
And he made up his mind. He was going to find some answers, weather they liked it or not. Harry Potter would not wait.
Paranoia struck Harry. He was constantly awake, he hadn't slept in days. His eyes were covered with dark circles yet his eyes seemed wide awake, afraid of closing. His whole body was hit with pain. He hadn't talked since the nightmare. Hadn't slept. Hadn't even eaten despite the constant bothers of everyone.
He was raging a constant battle inside himself. Part of him was still the same person, still the same Harry, the person that everyone knew. Or thought they knew.
The rest of him was taking over, a mix of rage and anger and fear. Harry had never felt this before. Something was pulling him deeper and deeper everytime he recalled his events.
He had been kept inside the hospital wing, perhaps because everyone was afraid of him. And Harry didn't care. He was sick of everyone treating him like a freak. He hated his life.
Even though he hadn't talked, they were still treating him as though he couldn't hear. And every time they would talk quietly about sending him to and insane asylum he would roll his eyes. If only they truly understood.
He wanted to talk, to yell at them. But that's what they wanted. Sirius was forced to go back because people had begun to suspect. Harry didn't say good-bye, didn't even acknowledge his presence Harry was trapped. Trapped inside his own body.
So maybe he was insane. It didn't bother him at all. What did bother him was the fact that he was deadly. This was mostly the reason he began pushing everyone away. He decided to not to care for anyone. Because, how can Voldermont kill his friends if he didn't have any? This was just another way to protect them...
The voice had been haunting him. The voice that had been haunting him ever since it had happened. Cedric Diggory's voice would torment him in his sleep and everywhere he went.
A new hot wave of anger rushed over him as he tried to block out anything that reminded him of what he had become. Of the monster he was. He knew how much anger he had lately, but he kept it inside. Nobody needed to know how much he wanted a family. How much he hated killing people. How he wished that life for him would end so that he wouldn't have to feel this way again. He was selfish and he knew it. But he didn't care. This was his life.
He had Hermoine and Ron visit him. They would sit uncomfortably and look at him. As soon as he would look back, they would lower their gaze. He wouldn't talk, even if they started a conversation. 'They haven't visited in over 2 weeks though. That means their beginning to forget. Forget how close we were. It's finally working.'
Harry had looked at himself in a mirror the other day. He had grimaced at his reflection. His scar had remained bloody, his body skinner then ever before. His eyes had been covered in dark circles. His green eyes had dulled over. They didn't even look the same. 'I don't even look the same. I can't even recognize myself.'
His nightmares had made him afraid of going to sleep. They would start with a happy life of everyone he had ever 'killed' alive. Then, they would disappear and Harry was left in a graveyard as it rained. Their voices whispered in his ears. Sometimes he couldn't remember what they would say, but when he did remember, the voices would be yelling at him. Angry that he had betrayed them. Yes, that's what Harry was. A betrayer. Harry Potter the betrayer.
The prophecy had left him confused too. He would have asked someone, Hermoine, Sirius, Dumbladore or even Ron. But he wasn't talking in an effort to keep them safe. But, when he thought about the prophecy, his mind would ring, like he remembered it from somewhere. Or maybe, he hadn't heard of it, just felt connected. And then, he would snort and yell mentally at himself for being so stupid. 'My gosh Harry. Your a complete basket case.'
And he made up his mind. He was going to find some answers, weather they liked it or not. Harry Potter would not wait.