Harry sometimes wonders what life would be like without this ever-present and exasperating itch that has wormed its way under his skin; stinging like light touches of needles that he has to constantly scratch until it bleeds before it subsides to something slightly more manageable. He is only given a minute or so of relief when the sensation returns and pulses through his body until it settles on a new patch of pristine skin. He marvels even now, as he absentmindedly drums his crusted fingers against ugly, bright bruises that if he hasn't been forced to lock himself in his bathroom, slumped for hours against the tub in front of the mirror behind the door because of this disease he suffers from. been a victim...if he could ever know what normal looks like. He pulls sharply at his curly hair, only accentuating its disheveled and unruly appearance, while his breathing becomes ragged and erratic; her wild green eyes focus on the blood welling beneath her dull nails. The resulting streams stain his pale body and white-tiled floor a carmine red. He hisses as he rips open the unmarked skin near his left side, stretched gruesomely and clearly around the bone, and lets out a sigh of pleasure as the burn spreads across the area. His teeth bite into his bottom lip and his fingers twitch at the reflection staring back at him, all the rough lines of old scars and blood caked on his stomach and thighs. Her eyes close as she tries to stand, her hands leaving imprints on every touch of the surface and she grips the counter so tightly that the soft pink color of her long fingers turns white as her shaking legs regain some of their strength. He grits his teeth and sniffles, waiting for the dizziness to pass... middle of paper ......lifting his face in hopes of keeping the moisture that has built up in his eyes from falling, he lets his voice into his head tell him he deserves it, he deserves to feel pain, he deserves to feel helpless, suffering in his own demons and unable to tell anyone in his desire to be saved. Taking one last look, he heads for the shower and turns on the hot water until it was boiling hot, as always, the water hot enough to burn his skin in a subconscious attempt to wash it all away. It manages to make him feel a little lighter every time he steps out of the shower, even if just for a little while. He enters and sighs as he sees the water hitting his muscles and making his skin red; his head falls forward and his shoulders sag as it cascades down his back, turning pink as it runs over his skin and forms a small puddle before ending up in the drain.