My Life Alone
Goodbye sorrow, goodbye reality
I bolted down the stairs and before the Dursley's could say anything I'd ran out the door and slammed it with a hinge-breaking slam! I hurried over to my motorbike and swung my leg over it. I kicked it alive and it gave an almighty roar, I sat there feeling the power before I put it into gear and sped off. I drove for at least half an hour before I came to a stop outside a local muggle grog shop, I slid off my bike and entered the musky place. The shelves were filled with all different sized and shaped bottles, I didn't know what to choose, 10 minutes later I emerged from the doorway with a large bottle of bourbon and another large bottle of vodka in a plastic bag. I got back on my bike and drove to the nearest park, sitting down onto one of the swings I took upon my surroundings; it was a clear space with only a few trees and a playground. I turned my attention to the bag that was still in my hand; I pulled out the vodka, opened it and took a good long swig.
"Goodbye sorrow, goodbye reality…"
I sat on the swing humming softly to myself, everything was hazy, well it should be shouldn't it; the vodka bottle lay empty at my feet and the bourbon swinging half empty from my hand. I took another long swig, that was when I heard footsteps approaching.
"Harry?" a voice asked that sounded vaguely familiar.
"Depends," I replied
"On," their tone sounded faintly curious and concerned
"On which Harry Potter you are after, if you are after the heroic Harry Potter who always cares for other peoples welfare not particularly his own then sod off because he's gone; but if you're after the drunken Harry Potter who is pissed off with everything in the world then be my guest and take a seat." I motioned for the person with the familiar voice into the swing beside me; I heard them walk slowly around the swing and sit down. I turned to them to put a name to the voice, to my surprise it was Parvati Patil,
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked, barely being able to hide my confusion. She turned and looked at me with her incredibly dark eyes.
"Isn't it obvious Harry?" I said with a small smile, "I'm talking to the Harry Potter who is pissed off with everything in the world." Her focus turned onto the bottle in my hand, "You know drowning your sorrows isn't all that good, you can turn into an alcoholic," I looked at her with a 'duh' expression, just to her annoyance I took another long swig; she sighed
"Fine turn into an alcoholic see if I care," she said her eyes skimmed over me again and it fell on my wrist. "Harry what's that?" Honestly how much did she want to sound like McGonagall; I looked down at the black material that was tied tightly round my wrist
"Nothing," I muttered, wish everyone would just but out of my life.
"It doesn't seem like nothing to me, now what is it?"
"If it doesn't seem like nothing to you, then you should know what it is isn't it," I said scathingly, she glared at me and made a sudden snatch movement, grabbing my wrist, "Fuck Patil, let me go!" But before I knew it she had the fabric untied and was unwrapping it from upon my wrist, I only watched, feeling as though I was too powerless to stop it from happening, she removed the black fabric and gasped
"Harry, what are you doing to yourself?" She asked in barely a whisper
"Its obvious isn't it?" I snarled back, trying to pull my arm from her grasp, but she held on firmly. She studied the cut again, and looked up at me.
"Why?" she asked quietly. I glared at her soft expression, I was sick of people looking at me like that, looking at me like I'm some poor kid to be sympathized, I hate it. I turned away from her but she pulled me back around, "Tell me Harry," she said sternly.
"What do you care," I muttered, "All you people care is that I get rid of Voldemort."
"That's not true Harry and you know it." She said soothingly, "A lot of people care for you," I grunted in disbelief, "Harry its true, Dumbledore cares for you, I don't think he even knows my name, The whole Weasley family cares for you, Hermione cares for you, your parents care for you-"
"My parents are dead!" I said ferociously, she shook her head
"Just because they're dead doesn't mean they stop caring, they're looking out for you Harry, you've escaped death so many times because they're watching over you." I looked at her for a while. God she's different, always thought of her as the bimbo type, not having a care in the world, I can see I was wrong. I smiled slightly at her, she ran her hand over the cut, like a mother would if her child was cut, it felt different, no-one had ever done that before, all it used to be was a quick healing job and then you were on your way. She released my hand and which I put in my pocket, I felt something hard and cold against my skin, clasping onto it I withdrew it from my pocket; it was my knife, I wondered why it was there for a second before I realized that I had put it there to hide it from Dudley. She took the knife in her hands and studied it.
"Why would you want to encrust your blood upon this?" She asked curiously, I shrugged
"It was the only thing I could find." I muttered simply.
"Promise you won't do it again?" she asked quietly, I closed my eyes
"I can't promise that."