This isn't necessarily my first story but it will be the first one I publish on this site. I am not really a writer and to be honest I am more of an artist. Please criticized my work and my mistakes and don't be hesitant to state the truth.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.
Warning: If you are easily triggered by things like abuse than please do not read this. This had some dark themes and I think I might put this under mature because of this.
Abused, used, and humiliated, that's all Harry James Potter ever knew. Not once was he ever shown love like his cousin, Dudley. At a young age he understood. He understood that no child should go through what he's going through. He also understood that he was unwanted. His mother didn't raise him nor did his father. He was dropped at his aunt's doorsteps at a young age and even his aunt neglected him. The only thing that his aunt and uncle ever did for him was cloth him and send him to school. Unfortunately, that was the only thing they ever did. Food wasn't provided for him and instead he had to resort to stealing which in the end supported his aunt's claim about him being a problem child.
"Where did that troublesome child go? Vernon, go teach the freak a lesson!" yelled the giraffe lady. Freak is what Harry was called. Harry didn't figure out his real name until he started school. A sad tale for another day.
Harry had a dream one night. He dreamt of red wings of freedom. It was a pleasant dream for him, because in the deepest part of his heart he wanted it to happen. He wanted his abusers put to justice and he wanted to be free of his prison. As a child he understood what murder was. He saw it daily in the red light district or the slums where he usually went to hide out. No one ever told him that it was an irregular thing to do and that he shouldn't do it, because no one was there to teach him. He doesn't know right from wrong. A child left on his own to survive wouldn't understand.
"Oi, jackass! Watch where you're going," screamed a random thug.
"What did you say, punk?" the suspicious man took out a hidden dagger and went for the kill. He showed no mercy as he stabbed the thug that messed with him.
"Beat it kid. I won't spare you even if you are a kid," said the murderer.
It was almost a daily occurrence to encounter dangerous people like thugs and murderers. Harry was a smart kid so he would usually escape before harm could come upon him. The thugs wouldn't say anything if you pretend not to notice after all. It's a shady place filled with shady people, but as long as you mind your business no one will kill you.
In the end, Harry James Potter murdered his relatives. He did it in cold blood just as his dream predicted. Painting grotesque pictures from his relatives' blood. He laughed joyously while doing it and the Dursley's scream fell on deaf ears. One would ask how such a young boy could murder his family. He didn't have the strength because of his small and malnourished stature. Well, it's his secret. A secret that he was forbidden to tell since long ago.