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| Harry Don't You Know Who You Are? |
| Spiral tubes of endless darkness, and shadows that cascade into an abysmal repetitious cycle swish out from all corners of his eyes. Then his imaginative bodily form dropped back to a place unknown to him. A time that seemed like he had already lived in but in another body, in another life, in another time. He at this time knew he wasn't crazy, he had an alter ego, another life. This protagonist that was called the boy who had lived, he was the one with the scar, everybody loved him. This different personality of his craved so much to live up to his name. His eyes raced back and forth as he slowly dived into his other life and into deep dreams. A boy of red hair and thick in length stood pouting his lip to the side as partial light shimmered down upon it. He was confused and spoke about a man who lacked the heart of a lion. The boy of red hair stopped suddenly and then abruptly an ostentatious man stood up with (what Harrison thought to be) a warped stick in his hand. The man began to speak, at first he couldn't make out the words until the dream repeated itself. The man stood up for the second time, waving the mutant wooden stick back and forth, "The adventure ends here boys, but do not fret. They world will know our story. How I was too late to save the girl. How you two tragically lost your minds…at the sight of her mangled body, so you first Mr Potter." The wand was raised by the grand man and took in a deep breath. "OBLIVIATE!" His alter ego took in a deep breath and then a feeling of un-describable pain was felt in his mind. Gasping for air, Harrison raised his body in a cold sweat nearly hitting his sixteen-year-old head against the very aged frame of the stairs. He knew he couldn't afford getting his relatives angry once more with him. These dreams alone of a boy named Harry angered them any time he asked questions. After the third head beating from Uncle Vernon, he stopped all-together making unusual noises when his memories of Harry would come through; he just would sit there and live out them as if he was in some virtual role-playing game. Rubbing his forehead to elevate the pain from the dream, he felt the boiled skin in the form of an unusual lightening scar. This scar was a reminder of the fire he had been in when he was twelve, or so he was told. He awoke in the infirmary in Surrey where a man who said was his Uncle, patronized him for being such a moron. He threatened Harrison that he would be locked under the stairs for a month if he did anything like that again. Harrison just didn't remember anything before that; all he could draw was a blank. Although now he felt his uncle was keeping something from him, all of them were keeping something from him. The only memories he had now were the months that had gone by, the many restless nights under the stairs, those dreams he had felt were so real. From the liberation of his cupboard cell to defeating a dark lord name Voldemort, this Harry he dreamt of had done it all. Harrison long to be that person, but when he opened his eyelids he would still be the same plain teenager, with the same ugly deformation and the same dust filling into his eyes from the fat bulldog going up and down the stairs. He was certain that before Dudley left for the finest college (that Uncle Vernon could get him into) he had trained that dog day and night to live on the stairs. Harrison hated it and was thankful Aunt Petunia hadn't padlocked his door shut. He had all the night to himself and loved that feeling of freedom, it was just like Harry in his dreams. Slowly opening the door to his cupboard he made sure to not make a creek. He placed on his old nerd glasses that were two sizes too big on his small framed face and stood up. Sniffing in the air of the horrid bulldog scents he crept away from the ghastly beast named Fluffy. He could still never understand how the dog came to be named such a girly name, but it happened.e. Dudley received Fluffy on his sixteenth birthday, and asked what he should call him? Harrison out of the blue said to call him fluffy. Dudley didn't even like the name and pounded Harrison for five minuets straight and then shouted pixie to his face as he spat on him. But that's all the dog could respond to and even though they stuck with the name they punished Harrison with six weeks of hard labor and solitary confinement to his cupboard. Harrison still to this night questions where he came up with that name. Harrison walked passed the kitchen and into the backyard. Bypassing the security system, he seeped away like liquid through a small opening of the screen and walked outside. Breathing in fresh air he felt freedom like a soul escaping from a dead corpse. Then it happened; he heard a call throughout the wind. It was as if Harry was calling him, and it gave him the most exuberant feeling any deprived teenage could ask for. What the call was he didn't know but what he couldn't see was that a burst of white colour raced through the night and howled the names to him of his long forgotten past. He had not known it at the time but the white was an owl and it was his; her name was Hedwig. The call the owl gave had given Harrison an odd peculiar feel. This feel had happened previous times before, but it didn't compare to what had happened two weeks before summer ended. |