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I like angels	By : drangelicus Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1809 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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- 1-I like angels
- 1
TITLE: I like angels
AUTOR: Dr. Angelicus (dr_angelicus7@hotmail.com )
PAIRING: Harry/ Vernon (implied)
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to JK, I suppose you know that.
RATTING: R
SUMARY: "I�m lying on my bed, listening this annoying sound, but it�s my heart hammering in my head, I just want this sound to stop, is that much to ask for? What else I must do so they let this sound stop haunting me? It�s all I want. Please, stop this sound in my head!!!"
CATEGORY: Angst,
AUTOR�S NOTES: This is the repost of my original fic, now it had been Betaed for Erika Philips... THANKS A LOT ERIKA!!!!, I had been waiting for a person like you for a long time ;_;

I like angels, their glare and smile, the way they open their wings, their image of humanity and divinity , they�re a contrasting mixture, caught between darkness and light; I think that�s why people believes they are our guardians, for their duality, they�re like us but their purity put them a step ahead.

Our guardians... when I was younger I liked to believe this. I really wanted to believe that there was somebody out there who would protect me, who was looking after me while I was sleeping and guiding me in my way. But I was a kid, a kid who knew more fear, pain and sadness than most kids my age, but I was a kid before all and I really wanted to believe. In my room (Dudley's second room), in front of my bed there was a big painting of an angel guiding two boys across a bridge; I used to call it �my guardian angel�, I really liked that painting, every day I used to pray in front of and I loved to see my angel�s eyes.

I have that painting in my mind, I can remember the colors, shapes and eyes of each character on it, but it isn�t a pleasant memory anymore. I have lost one of my few happy memories; it doesn't make me feel joyful as it used to. Each time that painting come to my mind it makes me suffer. To me that painting isn�t anything that it used to be when I still had kid�s eyes.

Before I went to bed, I used to kneel down in front that painting, placing my palms together in front of my face, and pray. I prayed for my friend's health and gave thanks for another day no matter how it had gone. But good things don�t last for ever, especially for me. When my faith was growing and it all began to change, I used to pray and enjoying watching my angel, but then things were different. Now there aren�t any more nights with happy dreams for me. All that happiness ended in one night.

That night I was scared, and the entire house was in silence. I wrapped my blankets around me, holding onto my pillow, but that was useless, my angel abandoned me. I knew it in the moment I felt that weight on my bed advancing until it was behind me, I knew it when I heard his breathing on the back of my neck and his voice almost inaudible. I was scared and turned my head looking for my angel, but instead of it, I saw those eyes in the darkness, then I closed mine... I didn�t want to see those eyes, I was whispering trying to call my angel for help, but nothing happened.

I just heard his voice clearly even if it was just perceptible, my blankets slid off me and left my shaking body uncovered, and it felt so cold. Even on that summer night it was cold, it froze my soul, and in that moment I knew there were no way out. The pain was in me, it invaded me, it felt like it was going to break my insides. I needed help and again looked for my angel, my eyes looked to the painting, but he was motionless, and in that moment his eyes to me seemed so empty. I was trying to keep looking the painting, I wanted to shout at him for help, beg him to not abandon me, and I tried to say him: �I�m a good boy. I need you, please help me� but my pleadings were drowned in my throat.
The pain was invading me deeper, stronger and faster and I just was looking my angel, motionless in the painting. I wished with all my faith that he would move, that he would fly to me and save me, making all my pain go away. I wanted to hold him so he could take me far away and I'd never have to come back, but he was motionless. In that moment I felt the worst pain in my life, I felt like somebody had ripped out my soul, I felt betrayed and abandoned, there were tears in my eyes clouding my sight, my angel�s shape dissipated in my tears.

I remember that I cried like never before in my life the night my angel abandoned me. The night he turned me over to that person and the weight on my shoulders was more that my faith, and the weight defeated me. I bowed my head and buried it in my bed; there were just the tears and the pain invading me. My angel had abandoned me and a moment later I did the same, my room wasn�t silent any more, there was the noise of my bed, my own sobbing the breathing and panting of that person while he whispered in my ears: �that�s what you deserve you fucking freak� as his weight was on my back and invading me, breaking me.

There were many nights like that one, so I don�t pray any more. I don�t wait for my angel, I have abandoned myself. I know that my nights with happy dreams have gone and the weight on my back and the whispering is the only thing I remember of those nights. It didn�t take very long, I didn�t stand against him; I just gave up and let the pain brake me. I was there broken, on my bed, with nothing inside me. When my soul was ripped apart by my angel, he took it away also my faith and hope.

In the morning there is that boy I used to be, crying in pain, with nothing left inside him and his only source of heat is the bed sheets. He turns his head and he sees that person, he tries to move away his eyes from the source of his pain, but then he is looking the angel�s painting and his eyes are filled with tears that cloud his sight, because the characters aren�t in the picture anymore, he is in it, walking over the cliff looking for his angel, but his angel isn�t there, he is alone. Lying in the bed he sees himself falling in the cliff and into to the darkness, he feels so betrayed that he just closed his kid�s eyes and never opened them again.
I really miss my kid�s eyes. I�m just a teenager but my eyes have seen so much things, I can�t stand it. I�m lying on my bed, listening this annoying sound, but it�s my heart hammering in my head, I just want this sound to stop, is that much to ask for? What else I must do so they let this sound stop haunting me? It�s all I want.
Please, stop this sound in my head!!!

fin
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I like angels