I See Dead People

"Mummy! The freak is doing it again!" A big blond boy said, stumbling into the kitchen of No. 4 Privet Drive.

The steady conversation of two women in the kitchen abruptly ended. The tallest one, a skinny blonde, huffed, pinching her long nose. The other woman, a curly-haired brunette, raised her brows at the boy's statement.

"Dudley, how many times do I have to tell you not to use that word? What is your cousin doing?" The blonde, Petunia, asked her son.

Dudley huffed; he wasn't sure what his mum was talking about. She always let Dudley call him, freak. "He's talking to himself! I was playing with my toys, and he started talking!"

Petunia sighed. This was a bigger problem day by day with her nephew. It was getting tiring to try to stop him. Nothing short of physical contact could get him to stop. Her husband even resorted to violence, and it worked! For the first few times.

"Petunia, hey girl. Snap out of it."

Petunia nodded at her friend, Yvonne, and got up to head into the sitting room. From the hall, she could hear the soft voice of her nephew.

"I'm just saying, I didn't even want to play with Dudley. Why does it matter that I don't have toys and he does? ... You always say this."

Petunia huffed. The ungrateful brat, of course, would have a conversation with himself about not having toys. He didn't deserve them; only boys who weren't freaks or didn't talk to themselves got them. At least in this conversation, it seemed that the boy didn't want them.

Petunia walked towards the boy, who was facing the window, and raised her hand.

*Smack*

The boy's head snapped to the side, a red mark already slowly forming on his cheek. Harry yelped, grasping his face, and looked up towards his aunt.

The woman frowned at the boy, putting her hands on her hips. "Don't look at me like that! I don't know how many times I've told you. Stop. talking. to. yourself! It isn't normal; people don't need to think badly of us, and that is one sure way for them to do it!"

Harry sniffed, trying to hold in his tears, but one fell. Petunia huffed again and rolled her eyes. "Go to your room; I don't want to hear one peep out of you. You hear me? Not even a shuffle. Go to sleep if you have to; I don't care. I will get you when it's time to make dinner."

Harry nodded and shot up from the floor before running to the cupboard, practically diving into the darkness.

A few minutes later, the boy opened his mouth to whisper. "It doesn't matter; you got me in trouble."

...

"So who cares that she slapped me? You are the one who made her do it. Now leave me alone; I don't wanna get into more trouble."

________

"Pet, Dudley, I'm home!" A male's voice, Vernon's, echoed through the house.

A small thud from under the stairs came after the manly voice, followed by a soft "ow." Not loud enough for any other person in the house to hear.

"Oh, Vernon! You are here early; I haven't started dinner yet! Let me get the boy, and it should be done within the hour."

The door to the cupboard was swung open by Petunia. "Come on, boy! I want you to peel the potatoes and get the plates and other utensils."

Harry nodded and rushed to the kitchen, getting the potatoes out.

"So what did you guys do today?" Vernon said, sitting down in his seat at the table.

Petunia smiled at her husband. "Oh, nothing much; Yvonne came over; both Dudley and the boy took a nap, and it's been quiet since."

Vernon opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the sound of his son running into the kitchen. "Dad! Dad, the freak was talking to himself today! He was also talking to himself after Mummy said not to in his cupboard!"

The man's smile quickly vanished, and his face started to turn purple. Petunia pursed her lips; she really didn't want to talk about this. She knew she would have to do so now. Although she hated when the boy talked to himself, she knew there was little to be done. Hitting him didn't work for long, and talking him out of it stopped working all together. Honestly, she thought hitting him was making it worse.

Vernon turned to the boy, who was now trying to subtly hide behind the trash bin. "Boy! Didn't I tell you that the next time you talked to yourself, you were going to regret it?"

The boy started cowering, backing up. "I- it wasn't my fault! I didn't mean to; he just wouldn't leave me alone."

Dudley frowned and shook his head. "Nuh-uh! I didn't say anything to you! You liar!"

This time, Harry frowned. "Not you! The other guy! He kept saying stuff, and I told him to leave me alone! It was his fault, not mine!"

The room went silent at the youngest boy's outburst. Petunia went pale; the boy was insinuating that there was another person who was talking to him. Vernon's face turned more purple, about to burst, but his wife raised her hand.

"Vernon, leave it; let's not go over this again. Leave the boy alone. Boy, put the potatoes down and go to bed. We will talk about this later."

Harry ran out of the room before his aunt changed her mind. Vernon spluttered in disbelief. "You are going to let him go? Just like that, whatever happened to beating-"

"Vernon! Please, enough. We will talk about it later, after dinner. Just not now; I already handled it anyway."

Her husband nodded and huffed, knowing that the conversation wasn't going to go anywhere. Petunia turned around to finish up the potatoes that were half-peeled.

______

"He is insane Pet, talking about another guy here? Please, barmy, that boy is. I won't have any more of it!"

Petunia gripped the scrubber harder. "I know, dear, but what are we going to do about it? I hate his freakishness more than you do at times, but what can we do? We can't give him away. I mean, what would the neighbors say? No matter that, we can't do it. That man said we had to keep him; it's for his and our safety."

Vernon looked up from his hands, triumphant. "Say that again, dear."

His wife raised her eyebrow. "What? What would the neighbors say?"

Vernon shook his head, grinning. "No, no, the last thing!"

"That man said we had to keep him for his and our safety? Vernon, What does that have to do with anything? How is that going to help?"

Vernon rose up, walking towards his wife with a huge smile. "Safety, Pet. His safety; the boy is barking; it's obvious. We send him to the loony bin, and if those people have a problem with it, we tell them it was for the boys safety. Even their kind can't argue that if he is crazy, we can't help him. Then think about the neighbors; some of them already talk, so if we were to send him away, we could say that we tried. It was a hard decision, but we had to do it; it was for his betterment."

Petunia looked into her husband's eyes, still not too sure. "I don't know, Vernon, those places... and then I don't even know if those people have a mental hospital, if they would understand."

Vernon grabbed his wife's shoulders. "What about those places? They aren't as bad as they used to be; the boy will be fine! So what if his kind don't have it? The kid is a danger to himself and others; you can't argue that."

"Yes, I'm sure you are right. What place do you have in mind?"

The man grinned and briskly walked to his suitcase near the door. "This place I have heard of is alright. Now it's a private one, so the NHS doesn't provide for it. But my job pays a good chunk, and it will only cost the same amount we get from the boy anyway and-"

"Vernon, you mean the money that we use to pay the light bill? That money? Why would we take the money we get from the boy, stop paying the light bill basically, and use it for a hospital when we can just keep him here?"

Vernon huffed. "If you'd wait for a second Pet, what I was saying was that we would only need about half of it combined with what my job gives us. Besides, that's the price of this hospital yearly; if we get money from his kind monthly, it would work! The food is free; they don't charge for children. They keep him until he is an adult, then boom, we stop paying for it; he will be out of our lives forever!"

Petunia looked off to the side, thinking. Before she sighed with a nod, she was on board. Getting rid of the boy was a perk, no matter if they had to move money around. It was settled; the boy would be gone within two weeks, and the family could live freely.