Safe and Warm
Okay, new story, non-magic story again as I've been told that you all like my non-magic stories more than my magic one. There will be a sequel to The Deal, just not yet as I'm not inspired to write it just yet. I hope you enjoy this one and don't forget to read and review.
From the age of three years old Harry could never understand the reason why he was forced to sleep under the stairs with little food, a bucket to do his business in and only a stained and battered mattress that Vernon had found in a skip to sleep on. He had a threadbare blanket that did nothing to keep out the cold and his clothes were so big for his scrawny body that they drowned him.
At the age of five he began to understand that he wasn't allowed new things, he wasn't worthy of new things. His Aunt and his Uncle made sure him to remind him of that four or five times a day. He knew he was the freak he was the unwanted burden that no one wanted. He was told often enough so that was how he saw himself.
On the rare occasion he was allowed a bath it was ice cold but he was grateful for it because sometimes he wasn't allowed to go to the toilet and he ended up soiling himself. The Dursley's would often send him to school smelling of piss or worse. He was teased and bullied relentlessly because of this and it wasn't even his fault.
He cleaned and did everything he was told in every free moment that he had and was never permitted to do his homework or to learn anything outside of school so the teachers thought he was stupid.
He received regular beatings always pushing him to the brink of never coming back but somehow he always survived, the next morning when his aunt pounded on his cupboard door without fail he would pull himself out of his cupboard no matter how much it hurt. Dudley once bit him on the cheek, right beneath his eye, so hard that it bleed for two days.
Harry had learnt to deal with the pain of broken and fractured bones. Vernon was always careful when he delivered the beatings, nothing major ever got broken. He had had fractured ribs and wrists. He'd experienced broken fingers that had been left to heal themselves.
He had never been into a hospital since the day he was born. The Dursley's wouldn't dare take him to one for fear of the abuse they dealt out to Harry be discovered. They enjoyed having him around as a punching bag. It was pure and simple, they hated him for being dumped on their doorstep.
They told him that his parents had killed themselves to get away from him and Harry believed that this was true. No one loved him, no one wanted him and he was beginning to believe that he was such a horrible child, so disgusting that he deserved the beatings. He deserved to suffer just because he was alive.
It wasn't until he was seven years old that things began getting worse for the young boy. It was when he was seven years old that Uncle Vernon began forcing him to touch him. It made Harry sick to the stomach but he had learnt the hard way that he did what he was told and never, ever asked questions.
It wasn't until he was eleven that the sexual assault Harry suffered through progressed to full on rape. Unfortunately it didn't stop, only progressed and Harry was too scared to say anything to anyone. Uncle Vernon would invite two of his friends round for them to take turns with him, they were brutal and he just lay there and took it. He was too afraid to do anything to stop the pain and abuse.
This continued until Harry was fourteen years old when he finally had had enough. Uncle Vernon entered his bedroom, which he had been moved to at the age of eleven so that access to him was easier. He looked unrecognizably enraged, his face twisted and distorted in a horrible fashion.
Harry couldn't have been more scared in his life. He wasn't very strong and when Vernon began to choke him he thought that it was over and that he was going to die.
In an effort to perverse his life Harry began to fight back, he kicked as hard as his small and feeble legs could manage. Large red hands encircled round his throat squeezing the life from Harry's body, but one of his kicks landed in just the wrong place for Uncle Vernon and Harry fell to the floor.
Scrambling up and gasping for breath Harry ran down the stairs, unlocking the front door and making a dash for it down the street, not knowing where he was going but knowing that he would never be going back to that place, he was finally going to escape from the Dursley's.