Sorry about the funky formatting the first chapter. I uploaded it via my iPod, and it messed with it. It should be fixed now though! :)
Here's the next part!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters, ideas, places, etc. I just wrote the story.
All rights and such belong to J.K. Rowling.
THIRTEEN – SUMMER BEFORE YEAR THREE
It didn't hurt as much anymore.
The beatings had become so frequent, I nearly didn't feel them anymore. The bruises, mottled and purple across my skin, almost didn't hurt. I was so used to the pain that it barely bothered me. I didn't even realize it until the night before my return to Hogwarts for my third year.
Normally after being beaten viciously by my father, I was full of emotion. Pain. Horror. Anger. Relief that it was over. Sadness. Utter exhaustion. But now, this time, the only thing I could feel coursing through my body. Skipping through my heart with it beat. Pounding in my brain. Sliding through my veins with the blood. Coloring my skin. Shining in my eyes.
Hate.
Pure, unadulterated hate. Glowing in my eyes as I quivered in the corner.
Later that night as I sat in my bedroom window seat, I was numb. Not physically. Physically I hurt. I ached. I burned.
Emotionally I was dead. I couldn't feel. I wanted to feel. I longed to feel. I craved it.
And that night was the first that took a razor to my wrist.
Review please?
This is the first time I've ever written anything like this. With the self-harm and I have no experience with it, so does it seem realistic.
And I hope the abuse thing from his family isn't too bad. I've attempted to write it before because well, it's a fact of life and if people can relate it to characters they're familiar with it will raise awareness. But I, thankfully, have no experience with that either, so I REALLY want to make sure it's realistic but not too graphic and violent either...
If that makes sense...