Seven-year-old Boy was not like other children. For one thing he didn't have a name. He was called Boy at home and Eugene Evans at school but his Aunt Petunia had firmly told him that was not his name.
For another thing he didn't have a room like his cousin Dudley did, with a bed and filled with the latest toys.
No, Boy lived in the tiny shed in the Dursley's backyard and he only had the clothes on his back as a bed.
And strange things happened around Boy. Once when Dudley had been chasing him he had ended up on the roof with no memory of climbing up.
Uncle Vernon was furious when it had happened and he had beaten Boy until blood had come out of his right ear.
And the small garden snake sometimes talked to Boy and Boy talked back.
So Boy knew he was a freak and it killed him inside. All he wanted was to belong to a family and be normal.
Boy had been taught from a young age that he lived for one purpose.
To help the Dursleys.
Everyday Boy would wait until his Uncle Vernon unlocked the shed. He had to be awake when this happened or Uncle Vernon got very made and beat him.
He would make breakfast for the family, always eggs, sausages and bacon. And he would have a piece of bread for himself.
He would then clean the house from top to bottom before school. Boy and Dudley in first grade. Dudley wasn't very smart but Boy was. Boy liked to read a lot so he was very smart. But the teachers didn't know this. They thought he was dumber than Dudley because if Boy got better grades than Dudley he was beaten.
After school he would come home and fix Dudley afternoon tea and do Dudley's homework, ignoring his own.
Then he would make dinner for the Dursleys and at the very end he was allowed the scraps.
At the end of the day Boy was locked in the shed again and the next day it would all happen again.
Boy's life was very much the same everyday. He would make sure that the Dursleys had whatever they needed and then he would try and avoid as many beatings as he could.
As far as Boy was concerned this was a perfectly fine life.
When he had been a baby his drunken parents had crashed their car and left Boy orphaned. Aunt Petunia, being his mother's sister, had kindly taken him in despite him being a bad boy.
He couldn't ask anything else of them and it was his duty to repay them.
Today Boy was out in the garden weeding when his Aunt called for him.
"Boy!
Boy! Get inside now!"
He quickly scrabbled up and ran as fast as
he could to answer his aunt's call. He stopped right in front of
her and was given a slap around the face for his troubles.
"You're too slow," she snapped. "Your uncle wants to see you in his office. Go! Now!" He quickly turned around to run to his uncle's office when something hard collided with his head.
His aunt had hit him with the frying pan.
Use to pain Boy's eyes didn't even water. He simply turned around and asked, "Forgive me Aunt. What is wrong?" He was always extra polite to his family.
She glared at him down her horse like face. Petunia Dursley was very beautiful in Boy's opinion.
She had very distinct long features and piercing blue eyes and lovely golden hair! Boy often wished his mother had been like his aunt instead of a dead-beat drunk.
"You didn't dismiss yourself!" she yelled.
Boy mentally slapped himself, horrified at his lack of respect. He fell to his knees and rested his on the floor in a grovelling position.
"Forgive me kind Aunt. I will now, with your permission, leave to attend to Uncle," he said.
"You may go," she said stiffly.
"Thank you very much," said Boy as he got up off the floor and sprinted to his Uncle's office.
He knocked timidly on the door. "Uncle Vernon? It's Boy. May I please enter?"
"GET INSIDE YOU FREAK!" roared Vernon Dursley from inside.
Boy opened the door and stepped inside to answer his uncle's call.
Vernon Dursley was a well-rounded man. He, like his wife, had thick blonde hair that lay smoothly on his strong skull.
Dudley looked very much like Vernon for which Boy was very jealous of. He was very conscious of being the only dark haired person in the household and the only one without blue eyes.
"Kneel Boy," commanded Vernon.
Boy did as he was asked.
Vernon held up a long black rope. "Do you know what this is Boy?" he spat.
Boy shook his head, "No sir."
Vernon grinned evilly, "This is a whip. They promised me it would beat the freakiness out of you."
Boy nodded excitedly. He didn't like beatings but if it would cure him of his freakiness… "Oh Uncle Vernon! Please! Use it on me! I don't want to be a freak!"
"Lay down," Vernon barked. "And take off your shirt."
Boy did as he was asked.At first glance it wuld seem that Boy's entire back was purple but really it was just many individual bruises locked together and there was the odd cut that was still bleeding.
The first lash made Boy gasp in pain.
"Quiet Boy!" roared Vernon and Boy bit his tongue.
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
He had never felt pain like that. Of all of his uncle's cures this was the worst but he would do anything! Anything.
Boy was bitting his tongue so hard then that it was starting to bleed in his mouth. He wanted to spit out the horrible coppery taste but he knew his uncle would kill him if he stained the floor.
Finally after what seemed like an age the lashings stopped. Vernon grunted irritated. "It hasn't worked," he grumbled, very sure of his words.
He glanced around the room looking for another method and his eyes settled on the fire. It was winter so Vernon had a fire in his office all day and he left the poker in it all day.
He pulled the red-hot poker out and stepped towards Boy.
Boy was still lying on the ground, unsure of what his uncle was doing but obeying orders none the less.
Then without any warning Vernon placed the poker down onto Boy's back.
Boy screamed in agony before quickly biting his tongue so hard it felt like it would break.
Vernon threw the poker aside his eyes furious. He was convinced that Boy was not cured yet.
And so he turned to his own fists.
He came down on Boy with fury and madness. He kicked and slammed, pushed and pulled. He slammed Boy's hand against the brick walls and all the while Boy made no sound.
He couldn't, he wouldn't. He would never ever disobey an order.
Boy closed his eyes and hoped beyond hope that he would be cured soon.
Vernon raised his fist up high and brought them crashing down onto… nothing.
The place where Boy had been was empty. The only proof anyone had been there was pool of blood.
Vernon roared in fury but it was no use.
Boy was gone.