"Mom, quick mom," a ten year old Severus said breathlessly, slamming
behind him the door of their small cottage home. "We have to go."
His mother turned to him, from her place in the kitchen, where she was carelessly chopping up vegetables for dinner. It would have been much simpler for her to simply use magic to prepare their meal, however, the family rarely used magic for anything. It wasn't spoken of very much. The knife, clasped in his mother's fragile hands stopped in mid air above the remaining half of a carrot as she asked him, "Go where?"
Severus seemed almost stunned at what she was asking, as he forgot she didn't know the news that he knew. "It's, it's him. Father. He's gone. For the day. He went to help that friend of his, Mr. Johnson, do something. He said it would take all day. Anyway, it doesn't matter, mother, he's out. You know what you always said. You always said-"
She stared dauntingly down at him through her dark eyes, that were covered in dark, heavy eye shadow, and black mascara. Her entire face, while it should have looked pretty, all dolled up with powder and red lipstick, instead looked menacing. Angry. "What, did I say?"
Severus gulped, now looking slightly frightened. He began very slowly, "You said, that if there was ever a time, when he'd be gone for a while, that, that we'd leave." Her expression seemed to soften slightly, so he continued with enthusiasm. "So now we can. We can leave mommy, we can just go. Let's go now, let's get out of-"
A sharp stinging pain could be felt in his cheek, as a large red circle began to emerge from his ashen skin. His mother stood there, looking furious, her hand still lingering in the air. He flinched as she began to speak, afraid she would slap him again. "You, rotten, ungrateful boy. You dirty, disgraceful little brat." Severus took a step backwards. The wrath showing in his mother's dark eyes, was something he had never seen before in her. He had known her to be cruel, as she often was. Still, he'd always reguarded her as being above his father. Now, as she stood in the kitchen, filled with fury, he realized his mistake. "How could you say such a thing, you stupid boy? What do you know? Obviously, nothing. Your father loves us." Tears were now emerging in the corners of her eyes. Tears of rage. He crumpled to the floor as her hand rose again. Without warning she struck, screaming obscenities as she proceeded slapping him with her hand. Severus began to weep, however, he didn't know why. He'd often suffered brutal beatings from his father, who was bold enough to hit him with a closed fist. Now, he was crying because his mother was slapping him with her small, boney hand. It didn't even hurt. It was merely the shock of it all that hit him. She did kick him once. Upon doing so, she fell to her knees and began to cry. Then, she spoke to Severus in the manner she usually addressed him in. Very curt, cutting words. Still, the fury he had seen was begining to disappear. "Get up to your room and pull a comb through that disgusting hair of yours. It's so greasy. Just, get away from me." Immediately, Severus rose and ran upstairs, without looking back.
Sitting bolt upright in his bed, a full grown Severus Snape used two fingers to gently massage his temple. His head was throbbing and his mind was burning, filled with memories he never wanted to relive. 'Why do these dreams keep haunting me?' He wondered, as he sat in the dark. Never before in his life had he had to suffer these distant memories of his childhood. Up until very recently, he had successfully been able to block out things like this. Knowing that if he didn't block them out, they would keep him up at nights, forcing him to feel things that he would rather die than feel. Forcing him to remember a time when he wished he had never been born. Alone in his own bed, he felt more comfortable to linger on these thoughts, than he had during the school day. While he would still rather have the apathy remain, he had to figure out a way to make this stop. To force away the dreams that insisted on plaguing him, every evening. Slowly, certain objects within the room came within vision, as his eyes adjusted. Each object still enveloped in darkness, lit only very slightly by silver streaks of the moon. Quickly, he lifted reached for a glass of water that sat on his night stand. He lifted it to his lips, yet did not drink. The glass was replaced on the night stand, and Severus now began searching for something in it's drawer. A small flicker resided in his dark eyes as his fingers rested upon what they had been searching for. He pulled out a small metal flask and quickly gulped down a few chugs. As it left his lips, he shuttered at it's content's harsh taste. Bourbon. For years, he hadn't touched the stuff, however it always seemed to be the comfort he went back to in the end. Again, he brought the flask to his pale, thin lips and took another sip. Hastily, he screwed the cap back on, as if he had noticed someone was watching him, and returned it to it's night stand drawer. There was a sharp pang of guilt in his mind as he sat there in bed. He pushed it away, rationalizing that he was a grown man, who should not feel guilty for having a drink here or there. Even if it made him smell just like his father. Wondering how he'd let himself think that, he quickly disreguarded his own thought and decided that a little drink here and there never hurt anyone. At that, he forced himself not to feel any guilt, or remember any of the pain he'd felt in his life. It was nothing to be concerned about at the present. Whatever happened in his childhood, should stay in his childhood and no one could convince him otherwise. He vowed never to let on about any of the things he had felt that night, or during any of his other dreams. No one needed to know. At that, he rolled over and went back to sleep, as a whisp of his hair fell into his face.
His mother turned to him, from her place in the kitchen, where she was carelessly chopping up vegetables for dinner. It would have been much simpler for her to simply use magic to prepare their meal, however, the family rarely used magic for anything. It wasn't spoken of very much. The knife, clasped in his mother's fragile hands stopped in mid air above the remaining half of a carrot as she asked him, "Go where?"
Severus seemed almost stunned at what she was asking, as he forgot she didn't know the news that he knew. "It's, it's him. Father. He's gone. For the day. He went to help that friend of his, Mr. Johnson, do something. He said it would take all day. Anyway, it doesn't matter, mother, he's out. You know what you always said. You always said-"
She stared dauntingly down at him through her dark eyes, that were covered in dark, heavy eye shadow, and black mascara. Her entire face, while it should have looked pretty, all dolled up with powder and red lipstick, instead looked menacing. Angry. "What, did I say?"
Severus gulped, now looking slightly frightened. He began very slowly, "You said, that if there was ever a time, when he'd be gone for a while, that, that we'd leave." Her expression seemed to soften slightly, so he continued with enthusiasm. "So now we can. We can leave mommy, we can just go. Let's go now, let's get out of-"
A sharp stinging pain could be felt in his cheek, as a large red circle began to emerge from his ashen skin. His mother stood there, looking furious, her hand still lingering in the air. He flinched as she began to speak, afraid she would slap him again. "You, rotten, ungrateful boy. You dirty, disgraceful little brat." Severus took a step backwards. The wrath showing in his mother's dark eyes, was something he had never seen before in her. He had known her to be cruel, as she often was. Still, he'd always reguarded her as being above his father. Now, as she stood in the kitchen, filled with fury, he realized his mistake. "How could you say such a thing, you stupid boy? What do you know? Obviously, nothing. Your father loves us." Tears were now emerging in the corners of her eyes. Tears of rage. He crumpled to the floor as her hand rose again. Without warning she struck, screaming obscenities as she proceeded slapping him with her hand. Severus began to weep, however, he didn't know why. He'd often suffered brutal beatings from his father, who was bold enough to hit him with a closed fist. Now, he was crying because his mother was slapping him with her small, boney hand. It didn't even hurt. It was merely the shock of it all that hit him. She did kick him once. Upon doing so, she fell to her knees and began to cry. Then, she spoke to Severus in the manner she usually addressed him in. Very curt, cutting words. Still, the fury he had seen was begining to disappear. "Get up to your room and pull a comb through that disgusting hair of yours. It's so greasy. Just, get away from me." Immediately, Severus rose and ran upstairs, without looking back.
Sitting bolt upright in his bed, a full grown Severus Snape used two fingers to gently massage his temple. His head was throbbing and his mind was burning, filled with memories he never wanted to relive. 'Why do these dreams keep haunting me?' He wondered, as he sat in the dark. Never before in his life had he had to suffer these distant memories of his childhood. Up until very recently, he had successfully been able to block out things like this. Knowing that if he didn't block them out, they would keep him up at nights, forcing him to feel things that he would rather die than feel. Forcing him to remember a time when he wished he had never been born. Alone in his own bed, he felt more comfortable to linger on these thoughts, than he had during the school day. While he would still rather have the apathy remain, he had to figure out a way to make this stop. To force away the dreams that insisted on plaguing him, every evening. Slowly, certain objects within the room came within vision, as his eyes adjusted. Each object still enveloped in darkness, lit only very slightly by silver streaks of the moon. Quickly, he lifted reached for a glass of water that sat on his night stand. He lifted it to his lips, yet did not drink. The glass was replaced on the night stand, and Severus now began searching for something in it's drawer. A small flicker resided in his dark eyes as his fingers rested upon what they had been searching for. He pulled out a small metal flask and quickly gulped down a few chugs. As it left his lips, he shuttered at it's content's harsh taste. Bourbon. For years, he hadn't touched the stuff, however it always seemed to be the comfort he went back to in the end. Again, he brought the flask to his pale, thin lips and took another sip. Hastily, he screwed the cap back on, as if he had noticed someone was watching him, and returned it to it's night stand drawer. There was a sharp pang of guilt in his mind as he sat there in bed. He pushed it away, rationalizing that he was a grown man, who should not feel guilty for having a drink here or there. Even if it made him smell just like his father. Wondering how he'd let himself think that, he quickly disreguarded his own thought and decided that a little drink here and there never hurt anyone. At that, he forced himself not to feel any guilt, or remember any of the pain he'd felt in his life. It was nothing to be concerned about at the present. Whatever happened in his childhood, should stay in his childhood and no one could convince him otherwise. He vowed never to let on about any of the things he had felt that night, or during any of his other dreams. No one needed to know. At that, he rolled over and went back to sleep, as a whisp of his hair fell into his face.