Chapter One

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Chapter one through three had been made before I discontinued and recontinuded this book. They may seem a little worse then the others. Please do not just judge the book until the fourth or so chapter.

Thank you.
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Narrator;
    There once was a good sized house, it had white paint and gorgeous rose bushes. This house looked exactly like the rest, nothing out of the ordinary.

Well, almost nothing.

A small boy, also known as the mistake of the family, resided in his small cupboard under the stairs. Freaks do not deserve proper rooms.

       Nobody knew his name, well at lesst in the realm he resided in. He says this because right outside his door were people whispering and gossiping about The Harry Potter..

The Boy Who Lived..

The Boy Wonder..

Golden Boy..

Mini James...

Anyways, He had just cooked dinner for the Dusleys. They demanded to have pork backed exactly as they liked it,  backed potatoes, loafed of course, and corn on the cob for dinner.

    "Boy! Get your lazy ass over here, now!" screamed Vernon.
 
   Damn.. Harry scrabbled to the dinning room where his, so called, Uncle was sitting. There were four chairs along a rounded table. Petruna was on the right of Vernon, and Dudley was on the left. With a smirk of the child and mother's face, Vernon yelled so loudly it shock the pictures on the wall.
 
    "How dare you burn the pork! We give you a roof to sleep under, and you repay us with burnt food!?" Vernon's face was as red as a radish. Which Harry, if in the correct scenario, would be laughing at. Yet, now was not the time.
 
    Vernon stood up, the chair he was sitting on flew into the wall right into the dent that was made from Harry's previous 'screw ups'.

       Harry slowly tried to back up, but failed to do so when he walked right into Dusley, himself. Harry doesn't even remember seeing him move from his seat. "I got him, Dad!" Dusley grabbed Harry's wrist to hold him steady, for the fun was just beginning.

!Waning!⚠
Next few paragraphs contains abuse, mental gore, and mentions of self abuse. If you are sensitive to these topics, please skip ahead to where it says:
♥️ Safe ♥️. If you are ok with these topics, you may continue reading. You have been Warned.

       Harry yelped when Dusley grabbed his wrists. He could feel the cold air hit is now opened cuts. Most would assume that those cut were from his Uncle, but that was far from the truth. Those cuts were no accident, Harry made those so perfectly that you would assume it was an art form. And to Harry, it was.

     Harry was no stranger to pain. Infact, he hated it. Yes, he may have cut himself, but he didn't do it for the pain. No, he did it because he wanted to see the crimson dot up, dripping down his forearm. Just thinking about it made him shiver.

   Going back to reality.. Harry's eyes widen was he sees his Uncle lift his fists and goes in for the first hit. He hits Harry's chest so hard, that He coughs up a little blood. The two boys laugh as the older man continues to beat the living shit out of the poor boy. You could hear Harry's middle rib crack, as he screams.

      Vernon then hits Harry square in the nose, breaking it. Blood flows down Harry's face and drips onto the floor. 

    Harry's head was spinning so fast he felt sick. Soon, He feels the cold, hard, wood floor agents his now bruised and bloody body. He could still feel the boys kicking him around, as though their life depended on it. Which, it didn't.

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