Am I meant to be loved
The four-year-old poked his head out of his room. That was, if anyone could call it a room. It was a small cupboard under the stairs. He could hear the rest of his family eating breakfast and he only hoped that they wouldn't scold him for not getting up early enough to cook it. His arm was still sore from when he failed to get all of the weeds in the flowerbed.
He looked into the dining room and walked slowly in, knowing full well that he wasn't welcome.
"Boy! What is the meaning of not getting up on time!" He shuddered but took his seat anyway. The boy was surprised when Aunt Petunia gave him bacon and eggs. He didn't touch it, for he remembered what happened the last time that he ate real food.
"Isn't your aunt's cooking good enough for you!" His uncle bellowed as he hit the young child in the head. He hesitantly took a bite only to cough it out when a fist connected with his stomach. "You aren't good enough to eat good food like that and now you have the nerve to spit it in Dudder's food? Well, how about I teach you a lesson!" He pulled the boy up roughly by the arm, bruising it. The child bit his lower lip to keep from crying out in pain. He saw the satisfied smile on his aunt's face and the smirk on Dudley's. He was pulled up the stairs and into an office. He heard the click of the lock behind him and looked up into his uncle's purple face. He was lifted from the ground and knew that his arms would be bruised.
The look in his uncle's eyes could scare anyone. He whimpered quietly as he was thrown against the wall, held about five feet off the ground by the bone-crushing grip. Small tears fell down his face as only one hand held him there, hanging by his hair. His tiny eyes widened in fright as his uncle drew forth a letter opener.
The boy's uncle cut the child's shirt off with the letter opener before he began to slash repeatedly into the exposed chest and stomach. The large man savored every pain-filled shriek that came from his nephew's mouth. Making the boy feel pain was like a drug that he couldn't get enough of. When he was done, he dropped the opener and wrapped his hand around the boy's small neck.
"Listen Potter, you ever do something wrong again and the punishment you just received will seem like a slight breeze." The man carried the bloody boy down the stairs and threw him in the closet. "You will mow the lawn and white wash the fence today, brat. It will be done before I come home from work."
Potter could hear his uncle leaving. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he tried to stop the bleeding and after a while, his nightshirt was covered with blood, but the bleeding had slowed. Before he could begin to do his chores, though, the room went black and he fell from the weakness of blood loss.
When the boy woke, he was aware that his feet weren't touching the ground. He hurt all over but was faintly aware of something hitting his face repeatedly. Potter found that it was a board and when he opened his tired eyes, the final blow hit. The board broke, cutting his cheek deeply. But the worst cut was over his eye. The stick, or board, almost tore his eye out and it was only luck that it didn't. The boy let out an agonizing howl of pain. It was short lived as a knee connected with his stomach. He was dropped to the floor.
"You felt the need to defy me? You thought that you were too good to do your chores? We should have drowned you the moment we found you on our doorstep! In fact, I might just start now!" The man had been kicking the young boy as the boy looked up at him with pained emerald eyes. He picked the child up and carried him into the bathroom, filling the tub with ice cold water as he held the boy far away from him like a disease.
"I'm sorry Uncle Vernon! I won't ever do it again! Please stop!" The child wailed pitifully.
"You should have though of that before." With that said he dumped the wriggling boy into the tub, not allowing his head to come up. He held the head under for two minutes, only pulling the child up when he stopped moving and went limp. He stormed down the stairs, careful that the Potter boy hit every stair on the way down. He threw the child into the cupboard with as much force as he could, causing the boards to splinter as a sickening crack echoed through he house. The man grunted as he shut and locked the door.
AN: This was one of my first fics, i found it and touched it up a bit, but i will only update periodically even though I have the whole story typed up and the sequal done as well. Like I said, this was one of my first fics, so be aware that i most likely isn't very good.
Also, this is going to be a short fic, so the chappies will be short, sorry.