The Scars That Haunt Me

Chapter 13

Harry's POV

He went into my memories, even after I asked him not to.

He's gonna hate me. Be disgusted with me. He'll tell the whole school and laugh in my face.

I watched his eyes go white and his body rigid and still.

Why? Why would he do this to me? He said it's to help me, but it's not. He's lying. He wants to tell the whole school. He wants to destroy me.

My eyes welled up with tears as images of what others would think when they caught wind of my past.

"Are you alright, mate?" Ron clasped his hand on my shoulder. I jumped slightly from fear.

No words left my mouth. I didn't trust myself to speak, if I did, I knew I would start to break down.

Some people who finished the potion early were now coming out of their trance, one including Hermione. She seemed a bit confused at first before realizing where she was.

My breathing hitched. I'm too claustrophobic all of a sudden, the walls around me are closing in.

But I'm not naturally claustrophobic, so to feel like the room is getting smaller and smaller doesn't seem right. Not to mention the fact that this room isn't small at all.

Dots grew around my eyes. I was giving myself a panic attack.

No, not here of all places. "Hermione!" I heard Ron's voice again.

It was loud enough that some people turned to us, including Professor Snape.

"Harry? Are you alright? What's going on?" I could hear Hermione's voice, but it sounded distant and far.

"What seems to be the problem?" Snape was next.

Everyone was whispering around the room about what they think is going on.

No! No, this is not good. I need to get out of here, I'm gonna pass out!
But then everyone will think I've lost my marbles if I just burst out of the room.

No. I can't.

I couldn't do it. I ran from my spot. Hermione saw this and tried to stop me, but I couldn't stop running.

"Harry!" I heard her shout. I even heard Snape shout my name as well, but I tuned them all out.

I can't be here. I need to get out of here.

Running down the halls with tears running down my face, probably wasn't the best thing to do when the whole school population hates me.

Some of them caught wind of me running and made it a game.

They threw their usual stinging hexes and cutting hexes, but I didn't care. I could only think of getting out of there. Disappearing forever.

"Crying like a baby Potter?! You're so pathetic!" A boy about my age from Slytherin shouted before throwing another hex my way.

"I guess you wish you had your mommy now, Potter! Too bad she's dead!"

"Do us all a favor and cut your lies and your life! You're nothing, but a waste of space!"

"Your parents were good people. Too bad they wasted their life on a freak like you!"

Why won't they leave me alone? Why is this happening?
Hogwarts is supposed to be my home!
Everyone hates me, or blames me! What did I do?!

I thought people would have liked me for who I am, whether I'm a Gryffindor or a Slytherin, but no. People only see me for the boy who got lucky. The boy that wasn't needed when they have people like Dumbledore.

No one needs me. They've all said it at some point. Not to mention they don't believe me.

You know what? I'm just a kid who never should've been given a chance. Dumbledore can defeat Voldemort. I can't do it. I'm too weak. I only managed to do it as a baby because my mom had sacrificed herself.

Why couldn't she just step out of the way? Let me die. That's all I ask. My parents would still be alive and a useless nobody would be dead, but no. Nothing ever goes my way.

I ran to moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I knew nobody would disturb me there.

The counter I leaned against was dirty and the mirror was too. No one really did come in here.

I looked in the mirror.

Nothing but disgust crossed my mind as I looked at the poor state I'm in.

Pale, with baggy clothes, skin for muscles, messy and dull raven hair.

Absolutely disgusting.

They're right. I'd be dong everyone a favour. Especially knowing my secrets out.

I need to die. I can't live anymore. Not with my secret out.
Who knows what he'll see. Probably the worst parts of my life. I will never be able to look him, or anyone in the eyes again.

And so. I did the one thing that I knew would eventually take my life. Something I knew would be the end of me.
I pulled out the blade from inside my pocket and rolled up my sleeve.

I always knew this would be my death. Not Voldemort, or old age, but a blade against my skin.

Sobs and hiccups came from my mouth as the tears just wouldn't stop falling.

I slid to the floor, my back pressed up against the wall.

I pressed the blade against my skin ad hard as I could, severing the vein.

My skin split and blood poured out. It soon hit the tiled floor and a whole pool began to form around me. I did it again and again until my head began to pound and the room began to spin.

Then, my grip around the blade slackened when the room grew dark.

This is it. I hope everyone is happy. I hope that this eases everyone. No one would have to pretend to be my friend, or act nicely around me. They can now laugh together when they find me dead on the floor.

It will bring tears to their eyes, but not of sadness. No, but of joy.

Before I knew it, my head hit the cold ground, everything around me went black.

I whispered, "Goodbye." For the final time.