Desperate Days

Desperate Days

The Dursleys were told to treat me right but it didn't matter. I've lost the ability to care. They still give me chores and I just do them without comment or complaint. They don't try to give me any of the extra chores that I know they would absolutely love to give me because they are scared that I will write to Moony, Mad-Eye, or one of my other friends and tell them that I'm not happy, but the truth is, I haven't written to anyone all summer. I've gotten letters from both Ron and Hermione, and I got one or two from Moony, and a letter from Hogwarts that probably contains my OWL results. All of these letters are scattered across my desk, unopened. When I got my birthday presents I opened them so that I didn't tempt the chance of rotting food smelling up my room. I was correct in my assumption that I would get food, but I didn't eat any of it. I snuck the meat pies that Mrs. Weasley made down to the kitchen for Dudley to eat next time he decided that he wanted a snack or something. I stuck the candy and other presents into my school chest and haven't looked at them since. When I went down for supper that evening, I noticed that that the meat pies were gone and later found out that Dudley had, indeed, eaten them. If I were to be truthful with myself, I would have to say that I haven't eaten since I left Hogwarts. I'm not going back there either. I'm tired of the way people act around me. I don't even care what the Dursleys will do when they figure out that I haven't left. They don't even notice whether I am here or gone. Sometimes, I leave for three or four days, but they never say anything. They don't really talk to me, but then again, I haven't said anything since I left Kings Cross.

I don't think anyone care about me anymore. I still remember what Mad-Eye said to me before I left the station. He said," If we don't hear from you for three days in a row, we'll send someone along . . ." That was over a month and a half ago. I haven't seen anyone all summer, aside from Mrs. Figg and her cats.

I'm supposed to go back to Hogwarts next week, but as I said before, I'm not going, no matter what, I haven't been anywhere near the Leaky Cauldron or Diagon Alley since last summer. I haven't been out of the house in two weeks, let alone my room. The only times I leave my room are to use the toilet or take a shower. When I'm here in my room, the only thing I do is sleep.

I don't know, nor do I care, what Ron and Hermione are doing but they're probably at Grimmauld Place. I'm not sure whether I ever want to see them again. They probably think that they know how I feel, but they don't really have any idea, just like Dumbledore.

There is a choice that I could make at any other time. I could stay here and be miserable, or I could eliminate myself from the situation. If I eliminate myself, then everyone really will know how I feel. I can see the headlines now. 'Boy-Who-Lived Dies', 'Boy-Who-Lived Disappears, Wizarding Community in Shock'.

Even though I could probably put it off another couple of weeks without anyone noticing, I just want to end it now so that I can feel the glorious rush of pain that cutting can only give you a sample of.

Good-bye wizarding world.