Title: Masking the Pain
Author: Graci Cawdwell
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Cutting, extreme angsty feelings.
Pairing: None...Unless you count Harry and the knife... ::Cough:: But it isn't sexual, so no. No pairing.
Synopsis: Harry cutting. o.o There isn't much to say about this. He's just...cutting and thinking...Yet another pointless drabble.
Word count: 536
Masking the Pain:
You all know the story. I have no need to repeat it for you. After Sirius' demise, all I felt was anger. Anger, and pain. Now, all I feel is pain. My fingers dance over the sharp edge of the blade and I think maybe that's why.
But as I watch the blood seep down through my sleeve that I have pulled up over my hands to my knuckles, I think not. I pull the knife away, look at the sliced up fingers, and still, I feel pain. My fingers are no longer hurting, but I have that dull ache in the center of my chest that I know wasn't there when I did this sort of thing.
It's still all new to me, but I know what to do. I know what feels good. I push my sleeve back and sit down on the edge of my bed. There is blood everywhere already, but my sheets never get cleaned. My so-called family never come in here except to yell at me and when they do come in, they don't look around.
I press the blade ever so lightly against my arm, choosing a place that hadn't been cut up previously. Blood pools around the edge and bubbles up before popping and releasing not just a wave of red, but the pain in my heart.
Maybe it's because of that saying that it feels good. The one that says if you have a headache, break your arm and then only your arm will hurt, not your head. But all too soon, that relief is gone and I dig the knife in deeper.
The skin splits and curls up a bit at the ends, around the kitchen knife. I watch as the blood falls to the sheets and stains them. Once I'm a full-fledged wizard, I'll clean them up a bit. But not too much. The sight of the blood makes me feel better.
I hear a knock on the window and I quickly hide the knife and cuts. There, outside my window is Ron. I smile and gather my stuff, making sure I take the knife and hide it inside my bag. I make for the now-open window and hand over my stuff.
"Harry, you're looking thin. Are they not feeding you enough?" I smile that fake, practiced smile of mine and I say that they do feed me enough. That is true, they give me enough to survive, but that doesn't mean I've been eating it.
I crawl through the window and get into their new flying car, the old one having gone wild or something to that effect. I casually hide my arms as we fly off to the Weasley's house. We were about to begin our seventh and final year at Hogwarts.
I wasn't excited. After school came the war against Voldemort. Who could be excited when you have something like that hanging over your head. I won't let on that I'm scared. That I'm hurting. I won't say a word and once I get to school, I'll use countless glamours and no one will know the difference.
My body tingles at the thought and I smile.
Maybe I am a bit excited.
-End-
A/N: o.o Drabble...done...I dunno if I'll ever write a real story...I have trouble with the long stuff. As you can see by this thing. It got kinda dragged on at the end...anyway...I'm off to make some more coffee so that I can stay awake. ::Shuffles away::