My muggle life in Surry isn't and never will be easy. Nor will my wizarding school, I will always be prey. The years of muggle primary school were torment for me. My 'friends' saw me as the 'weak link' someone they could pick on, someone who wouldn't fight back. I was thought of as the weird one. Stupid. I was growing more insecure with every movement. I was now prey. I tried to fit in with them, it got worse. I haven't known my favorite color in years. I lost myself in trying to be normal. I have never been normal... never will be. So I threw myself into my books. Dressed in drab colors, maybe I could meld in with the walls. Melt into them and be freed from this horrible world. My parents didn't help at all. As I sank deeper into depression all they cared about was their dentistry business. Always out of town even country for silly Dentistry Meetings. Never home even when they were in town. They would leave me days by myself, I could fix myself food by myself, clean up, I didn't need to have a sitter for days at a time. I was 8; I could take care of myself... Then the letter came. I made the first mistake...

"Hello?" A gruff voice answered on the other line, they were outta town again.

"Daddy?" My voice raised an octave; he hurt me worse than mommy.

"What do you want? I KNOW I told you never to call us on our business trips." His voice laced with a good amount of hate.

"I so sorry daddy! I'm sorry, but a letter came" Voice getting higher and higher each five words, I left out the weird things like an owl dropping off the letter. "It was addressed to me... it's a boarding school, they said that they wanted me to attend it. The name of the school is Hogwarts School of Witch-"

He cut me off screaming into my ear, a hoarse whisper that soon turned into a full-blown scream. I naturally winced and regretted it, my arm still hurt from when he punched me, in my shoulder. It hurt all the way to the elbow. "You incompetent child! Don't you DARE TRY TO PLAY A PRANK ON ME! WHEN I GET BACK THE WHOLE BLOODY HOUSE BETTER BE CLEAN, or...else"

That used to be an empty threat, I knew better now. But I was frozen in fear; I couldn't clean the WHOLE house before he got back. One day to clean 4 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms and not to mention the sitting room, dining room, kitchen, and the like. But it defrosted quickly when his voice boomed over the phone "ANSWER ME YOU STUPID BINT!"

"Yes daddy, I'm sorry" I was more afraid of what he would do to me if I didn't answer him. I didn't dare argue. You never argue with daddy.


-----Daddy-----

I look into my reflection

on the blood pooled at my feet

and what do I see?

Reflected in my blood?

My cold dead father

Looking back at me...

I try to flee him,

Yet he always returns

In my reflection,

He wants me to burn

Now no where to flee...

All I can do is be

And hang on to hope

he does not find me

I run and run...

Yet he always seems

to have that gun.

--June15th 2004--
Virginia

The phone was lost in a flurry of tears. I dropped it somewhere on the trip to my room; I had been a bad girl, I had to pay...

All I can remember as I look back, is that I was a bad girl and I had to clean. Punishment from daddy would be worse. But I was a bad girl and I deserved it, whatever daddy did was right. 'I was a naughty girl, I had to be punished.' He had drilled those thoughts into my head for 4 years. If I cried I was a naughty girl. If I did anything non normal I was punished. And when guests came over I was a good girl! I got make-up put on me, like any other day that I wasn't wearing long shirts and pants. But it was to cover my bruises. Daddy loved me on those occasions. Or for so long I had thought so. It was an act, and he really didn't care. But when I was cleaning the only thing that kept me going was the thought of 'punishment' from daddy. Mommy might join in, and she wasn't worse but together they were like an unforgivable curse.
--All Alone--

Hello?

Is anyone there?

Silence

Of course no one there,

I shall always be alone.

Just sitting here,

in my dark little corner.

Every sound I make echoes,

in this blackness of life,

holding me in it's iron bars,

relentlessly.

Never letting me go,

Holding me back,

Until the day I die.

We are hopelessly trapped,

Behind bars of confusion,

Racism,

close-mindedness,

And we will never get out,

because no one is willing to.

So I shall stay in my dark little corner.

Away from this world...

...all alone...

Shelby

--I wrote the first poem, please don't plagiarize, if you want to use it, ask me cutiegirl91msn.com --I don't own Harry Potter --Please Review... --Should I continue?