I don't go looking for trouble!

But I didn't do it!

Harry's Pov.

The Dursley's were hell. I couldn't put it in dumber terms. As soon as I got off the train, I got tossed into the car with my trunk. As soon as we arrived at the house, Uncle Vernon locked me into the cupboard with my trunk. I was 13! I couldn't fit into the cupboard anymore and in the bloody trunk, and I could barely breathe. I was in there for a week; I think before they finally let me out. And once they did, it wasn't much better. They had a massive list of chores they wanted me to do. If I didn't have them done, then they would lock me back into the cupboard without food or water. I soon fell back into the routine of silence and hunger. Dudley was, as usual, a pig, and it seemed as if he had just gotten bigger while I was away. The chores were harsh, and the punishments even harsher. But it wasn't anything I hadn't had before, until one night towards the beginning of July. ****************TRIGGER WARNING********************I knew as soon as Uncle Vernon walked into the kitchen that something horrible was going to happen. I tried my best to stay away and to do my jobs. But it seemed as though everything I did was wrong. When I cleaned the stove, he seemed to find something on it. When gardening, I somehow missed one weed. It wasn't until dinner that I realized that he was planning something. When I served the food, I had overcooked his steak. Such a little thing to most people, but all of a sudden, he had this crazy gleam in his eye."Boy, go to your room! This is how you betray my kindness! I clothed you and fed you, you ungrateful demon! Why can't you do one simple thing!" He bellowed as he started throwing the plates at me. I ran up to my room quickly, hoping to get a letter out before he came upstairs, but it didn't happen. Just before I could give it to Hedwig, the door opened, and there was uncle Vernon with a large leather belt in his hand. He quickly grabbed me and threw me against the wall. While I was on the ground, he started to kick me, and he stomped on my hands. It hurt, but it wasn't anything I hadn't had before. He knew this, so he decided to start whipping me with the metal part of the belt. It tore into my back and arms. The pain was nothing, though, as he pulled down his pants. I started fighting back as hard as I could, but with every whipping, I couldn't keep going. He didn't help me or anything just slammed right into me. I felt like I was on fire; I begged him to stop. "Stop it, boy," he growled in my ear," shut up or else I will make it worse!" I gave up and just played there as he abused me, crying for my life when he finally finished.