Bleeding

Harry Potter was seated on the toilet in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom sobbing. He knew this day would come since his aunt Petunia had horrified him with her ‘facts of life as a woman’ talk before his first year. Now thirteen year old Harry Potter was staring into the toilet bowl in horror, sick coming up his throat. The blood in his underwear and the toilet were the last thing he wanted to deal with. His aunt was right, he would never be a real boy. Harry just sat there sobbing for what felt like forever. Life sucks, he thought morosely.