Angel, by Aimee
Angel
By Aimee
Spend all your time waiting
for that second chance
for the break that will make it ok...
Six-year-old Harry, barely out of his toddler years, sat by the window of Dudly's second room, where he had been sent to for the night while his own cupboard was being aired out, and watched as the thunderstorm rolled by. Downstairs he could hear Dudly giggling as Aunt Petunia sang a nursery rhyme to him. Although he was only six, Harry had already grown up. He had gotten used to being excluded from the family. But that doesn't mean that it didn't tear him up inside. He still longed for his parents, where ever they were. In heaven, he guessed, if there was such a place. Heaven. In Sunday school he had learned it was a place of peace and happiness. Things Harry had so rarely experienced since his parents died that he hardly knew what it was like at all. sometimes he wished he could be there, in heaven, with his parents. The life he was living couldn't be the one that was meant for him. He felt it in his heart. there had to be another life waiting for him somewhere. There just had to be. Maybe that life was in heaven. If his parents were there, shouldn't he been, too? What was the point of living when you have nothing to wake up for?
There's always some reason to feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction or a beautiful release
Memories seep from my vein
Let me be empty and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
As another bolt of lightning flashed and thunder in the sky growled like a wild animal, fear accompanied Harry's sadness. He shuddered and pulled his thin sheet tighter around his as more thunder boomed over head. The mix of fear and wistfulness overwhelmed Harry and he felt tears swell up in his eyes. He longed for someone to comfort him, but he knew no one would come. In the world he knew, he had no one. Then something somewhat miraculous happened. Though it was the middle of a thunderous storm, the clouds seemed to part slightly, forming the tiniest crack in the gray clouds showing the dark, velvety sky. through the crack, a single moonbeam peaked into Harry's temporary room. The silverish light caught Harry's eye and he couldn't pull them away. Bits of dust swirled and danced in the heavenly light as Harry watched. A strange warmth passed through his body and he felt himself go limp, as though he was melting into bits of silver dust himself, being able to dance and move with the pieces, so freely... Instead of fear Harry now felt calm ... serenity ... but most of all, peace.
In the arms of the Angel
far away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room,
and the endlessness that you feel
You are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the Angel;
may you find some comfort here
The flecks of dancing dust and silver light seemed to surround Harry now. He swayed slightly as his emerald eyes fluttered shut. Instantly he felt like he was being transported to a different place, although he didn't feel himself leave the room. Instead of seeing things, he felt them. He felt things he hadn't felt for the longest time. Happiness and Love, though he had never known love, it was still familiar. As though he was feeling it in a dream. Harry tried to move towards what was giving off the feeling. it felt so good ... so wonderful ... and, ohh, how much he craved it! He was almost there. He sensed it. Just a little closer... BOOM! Harry's eyes shot open as something crashed downstairs. He squeezed his eyes shut and desperately tried to recapture the feeling. but it was too late. The warmth edged out of his body, but the feeling didn't. When he reopened his eyes, the flecks of dust seemed to be taking a form. Harry couldn't tell if it was male or female. All he knew was that it was the most beautiful thing in the world to him. It wasn't a physical beauty that could be seen, it was another kind of beauty. One too wonderful and breath taking for words. You have to experience it to feel it. The image only lasted a split second. Soon the image was gone as well as the silver moonbeam and the enchanting dust. But he wasn't scared anymore. Because he wasn't alone. He had the love still there as well as the happiness, serenity, peace, and, now, hope.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: okay, so it was a bit corny. But I'm trying! This is supposed to be when Harry is little (duh) so he doesn't know about wizards or how his parents really died. I guess you can say that the dust was supposed to be an angel. Maybe even one of Harry's parents.
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