Song: Animal I Have Become ~ Three Days Grace
Character: Dudley Dursley
Warnings: Character Death, mentions of abuse, possible incest hints, and a very messed up young man.
I do not own Harry Potter, as I am neither blonde, no British. Jade's not blonde either.
Animal I Have Become: A Dudley Dursley One Shot
Dudley Dursley had always had everything he ever wanted. He had a mother who would always believe everything he ever told her, and a father who, while he didn't see him as often, materialistically gave him whatever his heart desired. There was only one flaw in his life: His cousin.
I cant escape this hell so many times I've tried but I'm still caged inside somebody get me through this nightmare I cant control myself
Harry Potter was an unusual boy, with shaggy jet black hair, bright green eyes, and a girly figure. He was everything Dudley was not. Dudley was tall, muscular, with smooth blonde hair and baby blue eyes. Why anyone would want to be Harry, especially him, he couldn't figure out. Although he had seen the other boy physically broken and bleeding, be it from him and his friends, or his father, he had never seen him mentally broken.
Harry Potter was like a tree, a thin, scrawny tree, but unbreakable. He would bend, seeming like he was seconds away from breaking, but then, his eyes would light up, glowing in a green fire, before being smothered once again.
So what if you can see the darkest side of me? No one will ever change this animal I have become help me believe it's not the real me somebody help me tame this animal
It wasn't like he tried to be the cruel creature he had become. In fact, when he was younger, he had actually helped his cousin by pulling his father out of the house to the candy store, or the arcade, whining about how he promised, and that the freak would be there later.
That had been what he thought his cousins name was, up until his first day of school, where his mother had finally clued both of them in as to what his true name was. Harry Potter. A normal name for an abnormal boy.
I cant escape myself so many times I've lied but theirs still rage inside somebody get me though this nightmare I cant control myself.
When Dudley did something wrong when he was younger, he had always blamed the freak, as he had been taught. But now, he didn't even bother. When he was twelve, he started drinking. By fourteen, he had not only been drinking, and doing many other drugs, but he had regular sex. All he had to do was tell his mother that he was going out for tea at a friends house, and they would expect him to be home before sunrise. Not that he always listened. When he wanted to go home, he did. When he wanted to stay out and party all night, breaking into places and stealing whatever caught his fancy, he did.
Now however, he was at a crossroads, not that anyone knew. His fists reigned down on his cousin's body, causing once flawless skin to turn an exquisite portrait of bruises. Harry Potter would not cry. He would not break. He would not scream. While to some that would be majorly boring, not getting any responses, to Dudley, it just made him want to see the green eyes broken before him.
So what if you can see the darkest side of me no one will ever change this animal I have become help me believe its not the real me somebody help me tame this animal I have become help me believe its not the real me somebody help me tame animal
Did he really want to be what his parents were? Did he really want to live like this, with no true friends, just as he had been raised to do? High school was coming to an end, he only had a year left, and until July thirty-first with cousin, before he would leave and fight in some Wizarding war. As of July thirty-first, Dudley would loose his favorite punching bag, the one creature he had been jealous of. Why was he jealous? Why did he care? Because Harry was everything he wasn't. Brave, strong, unmoving in his beliefs. Unbreakable.
Somebody help me though this nightmare I can't control myself somebody wake me from this nightmare I cant escape this hell
In some ways, it comforted him to beat his cousin, using his blade to create masterpieces that no one else could do. He had no idea why Harry never fought back, never ran away, as he himself had tried so many times.
This animal, this animal, this animal, this animal, this animal, this animal, this animal
As his fists came down, one thought ran though his head: Why? Why? Why? Why? Why hadn't he ever told anyone? Why hadn't he ever fought back? Why hadn't he escaped into London every year while he waited for Dudley's parents to come? Why was it that he never had anything, yet was still able to smile? Why was he still able to make friends, and have people that would, and have, died for him? What made him so special?
So what if you can see the darkest side of me? No one will ever change this animal I have become help me believe it's not the real me somebody help me tame this animal I have become help me believe it's not the real me somebody help me tame this animal
On the day of August First, a day after Harry Potter had bid goodbye to Privet Drive once and for all, Dudley Dursley decided what to do. He couldn't live without Harry, he didn't want to.
A bitter laugh escaped his slightly thin lips. He never had succeeded in breaking his cousin, but somehow, Harry had broken him. His parents were down stairs, watching the tellie, and he locked himself in his room, pulling out his pistol that he had stolen when he was thirteen. No, he had never had much of an interest in guns, but somehow, it seemed like a fitting end. He took a deep breath, and walked downstairs, His mother turned to face him, a fake smile plastered on her horse like face. Never before had he seen her truly smile, and now, he never would. Two quick shots later, both of his parents were dead. The tellie was so loud that no one knew what had happened in number four privet drive. He walked to the houses of his so called friends, not really being careful so much as lazy, Piers Polkiss, Malcolm, Gordy, and Wendy, a girl who lived in number six who never did anything to stop him or his parents. He shot them all, and their families, before shooting himself in the head.
A single letter lay innocently on his desk at home, not that anyone would ever see it, as he had left his window open and it had flown out during the hour or so he was gone.
Eighteen people, including Dudley Dursley were killed in the unthinkable massacre, including Malcolm's three year old little sister, Jane. No one would ever know exactly what it was that had made Dudley Dursley crack, except for one living person, the blonde haired aristocrat with steely gray eyes who had seen the letter on the street, discarding it as trash after reading it.
This animal I have become.
Hey guys, its Random Reader here to discuss an important topic here with you. I'm sure most, if not all, of you guys have heard about the recent shootings. Twenty children all under fifth grade, and six adults were killed in a shooting just a few days ago. I was inspired to write this to show that yes, these things do happen. There have been more and more mass killing lately, and I want them to stop. Please, if you know anyone who has suggested killing someone, even in jest, please keep an eye on them. If they seem serious, please tell someone, and you might save more than one life. Everyone wants to be a hero, and in reporting something like this, you are one. Please help save lives. There has been twenty children in a mass killing whose parents had bought their gifts, and had been ready for Santa to visit, that now will never see the things in life that we take for granted. They were each an important star, whose light had been destroyed before they even had a chance to shine. One of them may have been the president one day, or an inventor, or a doctor, engineer, or so on and so forth. Remember that our children are gifts, and they won't just be missed by those who knew them, but by the world that they may have impacted.
Sara and Jade