An Ode to January Morningstar
It’s a funny thing, humanity. Society has a tendency to think of themselves as superior as if nothing in the world could harm or disrupt their perfect little lives. When, in fact, we are just another addition to the animal kingdom. Undoubtedly more intelligent than the rest, but animals nonetheless. But, somewhere in the process of our evolution, it was considered rude or disrespectful to call humans by that title. Yet, for a select few, there is no better adjective to describe their persona.
Humans have the capacity to cause damage upon anything imaginable. Whether it be nuclear warfare destroying whole towns, or mass genocide, or even simply breaking apart a perfectly happy family due to one's own selfish desires. All of these actions have a common adjective: vile.
However, as rare as it is, there are some wonderful people in this world. People who are pure and angelic. People who bring a bright light into this dim dark world. When others witness such rare beings, they want to protect them at whatever cost it may be. Whoever they, themselves, are.
Even if they are, in fact, the Devil.
In Surrey, England, there sat a community of houses that is called Privet Drive. Every aspect of each house was identical: the houses themselves, the well-tended gardens, even the cars in the driveways. The only thing that was different every house was the bronze number plates that sat on the small mailbox. Everything was perfect. And, even more disturbingly, normal .
Each family held a dark and disturbing secret. A secret that, if anybody would find about said secret, their precious and valuable reputation would be ruined.
For example, let’s look at the Davis Family in Number Thirteen. A husband, a wife, and teenage daughters. On the outside, Mitchell Davis was a well-liked construction worker. Nancy Davis was a secretary for her husband's construction office, and the twins were both cheerleaders for the local high school. But, if you unveil the curtain, Mitchell was a convicted felon, running away from his past. Nancy was an alcoholic who took a liking to expensive red wine. The twins? Both were battling mental illness, and the possible realization that their father may not be biologically related to them.
The Dursley family, Number Four. Mr. Vernon Dursley was the supervisor of a promising drill company, Grunnings. While he was quite a large fellow, his coworkers respected him greatly. Mrs. Petunia Dursley was a former real estate agent who resigned from her position to take on the role of lovely homemaker. She was the leader of the local Gardening Club of Privet Drive. All of the women of Privet Drive found her to be incredibly charming, and a perfect lady. Dudley Dursley, their son, was an adorable four-year-old. Despite being a bit chubby for his age, he was immensely endearing to everybody he met (whilst in public, that is).
This appears to be the picture perfect family, correct?
No, it’s not. Nothing is right about this family. Nothing at all.
One crisp morning, January 7th to be exact, the Dursleys were as happy can be. All of them were collected in the living room, watching morning cartoons with their son Dudley. While the four-year-old was still in his pajamas, both Vernon and Petunia were dressed as if they had an important event to go to.
This seems like a normal morning, yet there was one part of this scene that is a little bit off. Did you notice the phrase “All of them?” Well, that isn’t exactly correct.
Because, mere inches away from the Dursley family, behind the closed cupboard door underneath the stairs, there was an old, rusting dog cage. And, inside of the cage, was a small boy, physically looking no older than three years old. His bodily fluids and defecation covered his bare body, lacerations spread across every part of his skin.
This was the dirty little secret the Dursleys were hiding. And, it wouldn’t be two hours before these sins were uncovered.