Finally enough

Chapter one: alone again.

Hello! This is my first time writing fan fiction, so please be gentle! I apologize for any grammar mistakes. TW: child abuse, yelling, bullying, blood, injuries

Somewhere in the suburb of Surrey, in a little neighborhood called Little Whinging, a small boy sits is a cupboard fast asleep. But he doesn't stay that way for long.
Boom
Boom
Boom
Harry wakes up to the loud banging above him, that send dust and spiders falling down.
"HARRY. WAKE. UP. I'M HUNGRY!" Yelled the pig of a boy called Dudley. Hurriedly throwing himself out of the cupboard, Harry made his way through the house. As he reached the kitchen he was pushed into the wall. "Hurry up boy!" Boomed his uncle.
"Y-Yes uncle Vernon" the young boy squeaked out in fear. A hard slap we delivered to the boys face, making him scrunch his eyes closed.
"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU TIME AND TIME AGAIN, YOU UNGRATEFUL BOY?" Vernon yelled, towering over the trembling boy. Harry stood silent, so scared to say a word. Another slap found itself to his face.
"You call me sir. You call my wife ma'am. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME FREAK?" He screamed, grabbing Harry harshly by the wrist.Terrified, Harry vigorously nodded his head.
"Good. Now, get your ass in the kitchen and make my son his breakfast. If ANYTHING is burnt, you'll be sorry" Vernon said, his face turning an ugly shade of purple. Harry's uncle released his wrist and shoved him into the kitchen. Relieved, Harry began cooking. He truly had no problem with making food. He enjoyed himself, even if he was never aloud to eat any of it. He just hated that his hard work went to such horrid people. Cracking and egg into the pan, Harry began to day dream about how he wished things were.

He imaged his life with parents. Being held by his father as his mother ran her fingers through his jet black hair. He thought about her kissing away all of his bruises and telling him everything would be alright. He'd turn to his father and look him in the eye. His dad would smile and open his mouth.

"BOY WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SMELL?"

Wait what?

Harry snapped open his eyes and came to a horrible realization. He'd burned the eggs. A feeling of pure terror filled his being. Oh my god. Vernon was gonna kill him.

ABUSE SCENE

Just as he finished that though, the large man waddled into the kitchen.
"GOD DAMNIT. LISTEN HERE YOU FREAK. I spent MY money on you. I put clothes on your back. A roof over your head. AND YOU DO THIS? YOUR SO USLESS. CAN'T DO A SINGLE THING RIGHT. I SHOULD HAVE SENT YOU TO AN ORPHANAGE. OR BETTER YET, I SHOULD'VE JUST KILLED YOU AS A BABY" he raged, grabbing Harry by the arm. Filled with anger, he slammed the boys arm down on the hot shove. Horrible screams filled the house as Harry's skin blistered and melted. Tears ran down his face. Vernon then grabbed the boys hair and shoved him to the floor. Harry looked in in terror, holding his burnt arm to his chest, as he realized this was just the beginning.
Vernon took off his belt and began viciously whipping the small boy with it. Harry was already very injured from earlier punishments, so the belt only did worse damage. Spewing out insults, Vernon continued the beating, switching out the belt for his hand every once in a while. After about 2 hours, Vernon finished, leaved the unconscious boy in the pool of his own blood.

ABUSE SCENE OVER.

Slowly gaining consciousness, Harry took in his surroundings. A metallic sent filled his nose and made him nauseous. Turning to his side, Harry threw up the only food he's eaten in a week. Carefully standing, he wobbled to the bathroom to assert his injuries.

Closing the door behind him, he took of his grimy, large shirt. Sniffling, he looked at himself in the mirror. He was hideous. His sickly pale skin was covered in bruises of all colors. Old and new cuts littered his body. His face gained a black eye and busted lip. He hated it. He hated his reflection. He was ugly. Stupid. Worthless. Unloved. Unlovable. As silent tears poured down his face, he slowly put a shirt back on, being carful of his injuries. He knew there was no point in cleaning them and if Vernon found out, he'd be dead.
Making his way to the kitchen, he tried not to pass out of blood loss. He slowly began cleaning. It was expected of him. Picking up the food and pan, he softly hummed to himself. Moving on to the blood, he picked up a sponge and a bottle of bleach. This would be difficult.

After hours of scrubbing, he's hands were raw and aching. There was still a faint outline of blood, but he figured this was the best he could do. He was exhausted. He felt as though he would pass out. He couldn't decide from what though. Dehydration? Starvation? Blood loss? Exhaustion? It didn't matter. He looked at the clock and read the time. 5:23. He'd have time to sleep before making dinner. He practically crawled to his cupboard and curled up in a ball. Then, he slept. After about an hour, petunia tried to wake him up. She slapped him, yelled at him, and shook him. When he finally woke up, it was clear that he was in no state to cook. She angrily sighed and slammed the cupboard door. Harry found sleep once again and dreamt of his parents.

Thanks for reading!
Word count: 952