The bad things. They were always racing through my mind. I couldn't make them go away no matter what I did. No one knew about the bad things. No one could help me with the bad things. They're always there. Always hurting me.
I can't tell anyone about the bad things because the bad things are all secrets. Harry keeps trying to make me tell im what the bad things are, but I can't. THey are all our little secrets. Not mine and Harry's, mine and the person who the secret belongs to. Who the secret lives inside of, but doesn't seem to do anything. But the secrets in me do everythimg.
For, the secrets, are The Bad Things.