Cuts and Bruises
Ok, this is my very first fan fic so please be nice. I hope you like it.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own Harry Potter as much as I would like to, it all belongs to JK Rowling, apart from my storyline, which I have made up.
The pain, the continuous and constant pain that kept coming and coming and coming, it didn't stop, it didn't get any better and there was no relief. There was nothing he could do – it happened whether he liked it or not, he was powerless. Pain seeped through his body like water seeps through a sponge – it was agony, beating after beating with that infamous black belt, whipping after whipping and punch after punch.
Sometimes, if the offender was in a particularly happy mood, he would take his victim by the hair and drag him upstairs, not caring what he hit, whether the victim crashed his skull on a door frame or hit his leg on a wall with such force that it nearly broke. The offender would then run a bath and lie the victim in it face downwards and would hold him there for about five minutes, or until the victim's movement slowed down.
Then he would bring back to the surface for about half a minute, where he would see the pain and the victim gasping for breath and then back under he went. This would happen until the offender got bored and left the victim to clean up, usually blood from his head where the offender had smashed his skull against the bottom of the bath.
There was always such joy in the offender's eyes as he saw the pain flash across his victim's eyes, as he saw those tears roll down the victim's cheeks and as he damaged, cut and bruised that perfect flesh.
The victim never cried out, that would be pointless, no one would ever come, everyone became temporarily deaf and it would give the offender even more pleasure to see him ask for help. Anyway no one would ever stand up to this monster of a person that he was, incontrollable and the offender relished in the fact.
'You're not fit to be a human being.'
'You're a piece of dirt that needs to be crushed under my shoe.'
'You should hav never been born.'
'There is no purpose to your life, you might as well be dead.'
These were the insults that flew at him day after day, night after night whenever he was in hearing range. All he could do was take it; there was no use in answering back that would just mean more beatings. He just had to get on with his life, which at the moment was mainly chores and take what was thrown at him, he had to take it like a man, which wasn't right seeing as he was only a 16 year old boy who shouldn't be subjected to this rage and torture.
This boy was 6ft 2 and well built. You could see he was a sportsman with muscular arms and legs that were now covered in deep red cuts and purple bruises.
He has a name this boy, it isn't a very interesting name, there isn't anything extraordinary about it, it's just a name and it's the name he goes by. This boys name is Harry Potter.
Well thats the beginning and I hope you like it, it's a bit dark I know. Please r/r it would mean a great deal to me. Thanks, hope to get another chapter up soon. Promise.