(I was very upset when I wrote this, it's based on my day, or part of it. Don't worry, it got better. Tell me if you like it!)
He held himself high through his classes, through dinner, even through an hour of studying with his fellow Slytherins. The whole time he could feel himself breaking down, but no one noticed, other than he was easier to provoke to scream and insult people. He said goodnight to his friends and went up to his bed, he drew the curtains around him and put a silencing charm around it. This was the only place he was safe.
He let everything hit him at once, how he'd been yelled at, how no one noticed what the problem, but what disgusted him most was his own failure. He had been doing his best, but it never seemed good enough, so he'd just try harder, but that didn't help any. Being angry didn't help much either, it just made him careless and more likely to mess up. It had seemed so much easier months ago when he had been told what he had to do, now it was just another complication in his life.
Snape had offered to help when he said he was having trouble. Once he let him, and Snape pointed out a simple mistake that he'd made because he was in a hurry. This made him feel stupid, "Great…" I mumbled.
"If you're going to act like this I don't see why I should even help you!" Snape yelled and strutted from the room of requirement. I hadn't meant offense by it, I was frustrated with myself, not him. I wanted to apologize, but I knew I would only get angry remarks saying that the way I said it was meant to hurt him.
Then there are times I get angry at people for not helping at all when they're giving their time to help. I gave a sarcastic remark about that once, they yelled at me that they wouldn't help anymore. Later I was able to get them to help me again by apologizing and explaining I was under a lot of stress and didn't mean to hurt they're feelings.
And it's not like I have anyone else. I'm alone in this. I don't want someone to walk me through it holding my hand, but I would like some support. More than Snape's partly attentive questioning about when it will be done. More than Crabbe and Goyle's willingness to keep watch. I want a true friend, someone to talk to about what I'm doing. The other death eaters pity me. It hurts, whenever they say, "Poor little guy, working all by himself." I wanted to hurt them, I wanted to cry, but I would always give a weak nod and pretend it did nothing.
After about ten minutes of crying I get under the covers and fall asleep. Knowing in my head that tomorrow will be the same. Knowing that people will always pity me. Knowing that I have no support.
Knowing that I am alone
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