Story Time!

I wake up slowly, my eyesight blurry. I stare up at the familiar ceiling of the stairs. Since they're the underside of the stairs, would they be called a ceiling, or would they still just be stairs? Oh well, no point in thinking about that.

I look to the side where I can feel someone hugging me. There I see Harry, fast asleep with tear streaks behind his glasses. Poor boy. He was probably terrified that I might not wake up. After all, I'm pretty sure the reason neither of us have jumped off a bridge yet is because we have each other. And we can't really get to a bridge without help. It's not like we can just go around asking people where we could find a handy dandy bridge we could jump off nearby could we?

…Could we? Nah, there's no way people would give a couple of kids directions like that. And I doubt we could get to one before the Dursleys caught up to us. After all, where else would they get all their free labor? We cook, we clean, hell, sometimes they'll rent us out to clean the neighbors houses too!

…And no, that is not me hinting that me and Harry got whored out. I think there was one guy who was interested in me like that, but when I was cleaning there he went to take a shower. Except when he turned on the water, he exploded! Well, the water did. See, apparently there was some kind of blockage in the pipes, so a bunch of water got stuck while the pressure just kept building. (According to the police inspector and plumber that is.) Then when he turned on the water that day, the pipes couldn't take it and the pipe burst. The force was powerful enough to send metal shards through the wall, through his eye, and into his brain! And thus I was possibly saved from a possible pervert.

After that, people didn't pay for us to clean their houses that often. The Dursleys blamed us of course, and Dudley was encouraged to "teach us proper manners". Which basically translated to beat us more often.

As the old saying goes, 'sticks and stones may break your bones'. Me and Harry are usually lucky in that they didn't. At one point, Harry tried to tell them that there was more to the saying, but then Dudley threw a dictionary at him. Neither of us even knew he HAD a dictionary. Honestly, we didn't even think he could read that well. On the bright side, we had gained something to keep us occupied when we were locked under the stairs.

With the all powerful dictionary, our knowledge far surpassed the ignorant masses who attended school with us! And eventually, we could use our knowledge of esoteric words to rule our school! Nya-hahahaha!

…Wait, Nya? Since when have I ever said Nya, much less laughed like that? Actually, my entire introspection has been weird. Why? Because I'm introspecting! Given how bad my life is, introspection is one of the worst things I can do! I would just end up thinking about how shitty my bloody life is and contemplate murdering the ever-loving shit out of my bleeding bloody relatives!

Just imagining their faces as they're engulfed in a fiery explosion *shiver*, oh it would be glorious.

I shake my head at the thought. What the heck? Since when has that ever happened? And why an explosion specifically? I try and think back to any time that I've ever wanted to murder my family.

…

...

...…...

Ok, so there's a lot. But it's all been in the moment, spontaneous with whatever was nearby at the time. This is the first time I've wanted to kill them so bad, and in a certain way. I try to think about what might have caused this.

It takes some time, but eventually I land on two possibilities.

One: Someone with an addiction to explosions, murders, or both has taken over my body and lost their individuality, forcing our minds to merge.

I find this one unlikely due to not having any memories that don't belong to me in my head.

WAIT! WHERE DID THAT ONE COME FROM!?

Oh wait, I remember now. That one is mine.

Anyways, reason two: When I hit my head on the table, it messed up my brain. Honestly, I find this one almost as unlikely as the first. If I had really hit my head hard enough to break my brain, I doubt I would be laying here in my brother's arms thinking about all this. I doubt I would have woken up at all if that was the case.

As such, I'm just gonna assume that what happened earlier was that the toaster exploded, and it awakened some kind of fascination within me for those beautiful destructive masterpieces...

Another shiver runs through my body before I give another glance to my brother. Good, he's still asleep. I decide to get what rest I can before the morning. Considering what happened, I'll probably have a long day tomorrow…