Dark Memories


By Levi Longbottom

As Harry lay on his bed in the thunderstorm, he cried softly into his pillow. He had just been punched on his first day of kindergarten. Then, on his way home, Dudley and his gang had chased him until he collapsed. They then started to hit him with sticks. When he got home, he was yelled at for 2 and a half hours for getting blood and mud all over his shirt and pants. Then Uncle Vernon went into the kitchen for a Brandy while Aunt Petunia yelled at him for forty minutes. Then she spanked him with a belt and sent him to his cupboard for the rest of the night without any supper.

Harry wished he had a mother. If he had a mother, he wouldn't have been hit. He wouldn't have been yelled at. He would have had supper. He wouldn't be stuck with his uncle. He wouldn't be stuck with his aunt. He wouldn't be stuck with Dudley.

Harry tried to get to sleep, but the thunder and thump, thump, thump, of the large raindrops hitting the roof kept him awake. He could hear Dudley laughing as he watched TV in his larger bedroom. Harry wished he had a father. He would be able to play games with him and do all of the other things fathers did with their kids. But, he didn't really know what fathers did with their kids. He couldn't remember his father and he wasn't usualy allowed out of his cupboard when Dudley played with his father.

Harry heard Dudley giggleing as his mother told him a nursery ryme. He wished he had a mother to tell him nursery rymes.

If he tried really hard, he could remember a woman with long red hair throwing him into the air and catching him while laughing. He supposed this was his mother. If he tried really hard, he could remeber a man with untiedy black hair and glasses holding him above his head and running around the room. He supposed that was his father. If he tried really hard, he could remember the two putting him inside of a bed and kissing him goodnight.

That was all he could remember of his parents, but it was a lot harder than it was a year ago. He supposed that in couple of years, he wouldn't remember them at all.

He could hear Dudley snoring from his larger bedroom.

As he wished that he had parents to do the stuff that he cried harder than ever. But he knew that he'd never have parents, and he never would. But that didn't bother him, because he would be able to visit them in his dreams, wherever they were.

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