Sometimes I think it's hard to be me. Yeah, I know. I'm DRACO MALFOY! Life is hard in general, so why is it so hard for me, a handsome 6th year young adult? I live a perfect poster-family life. Perfect looks, perfect behavior, perfect grades, and loads of money. Perfect? Right…? Yeah…. I guess you can consider those things perfect. But I do miss out on a lot, believe it or not! Yeah! I do- believe me! Maybe it is the fact my father doesn't love me AT ALL! Yes, I know most every "child" goes through the stage were they hate everyone and "nobody understands them". But in my case, my father actually hates me. He hates I am not him. Am I being confusing? Shall I explain…? Well- if I were to explain I dunno where I would even start! Ok- ok! I will start at… my birth!

I was born to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy on June 5th, 1980 on a sunny day. Humid actually. Lets just say I wasn't the only child born this humid day. My twin sister was born. My parents named her first. It was so early in the morning they could still see the moon so they- well my mother decided to name her Luna. Yeah… Looney Luna Lovegood is my sister. It is a long story… SO I will tell it, seeing as you have the time!

My mother was supposed to only be having one child and my father only wanted one child. Alas, they had two. Me and Luna. The Dragon and the Moon. We were both beautiful children, if I do say so myself! But, father didn't necessarily think so! Out of hatred towards my mother for having twins, and out of hatred towards Luna, he killed Pandora Lovegood's baby, replacing her with Luna. My mother wrapped a necklace around her neck when my father was not watching before he took her away from me. A necklace which matched mine. I never took of the necklace… ever. And so, my parents sent me to Hogwarts with this information about my sister.

I make fun of my own twin sister at Hogwarts. Yeah…. Most of it is a facade to cover up the halfblood and mudblood stereotypes I am apparently supposed to believe in…. Ugh I will get into that later! Nobody knows about the child switch. NOBODY! It will stay just like that. I cant face her. Not after I did what I did. Not after I said what I said. Not after I caused her pain. I can see it in her eyes. I just understand. I dunno why I do. But I see a constant emptiness in her. Maybe I know its there because I have it too. Maybe from the lack of love and care. Or maybe the emptiness is because the other half to you is missing. Or maybe I found out where the gold is but I cannot reach it. My arms are too short. But- oh how I fall down a dark cave, scrambling to find anything to give me light.

BACK TO WHY MY DAD HATES ME! Ever since I was about three or four my dad abused me. It feels weird when I say it nonchalantly. But it is true. It has been slowly getting more violent over the years. When will I learn to shut my mouth? It is like everything I do is WRONG! I would say I wish I was a kid again but… was I ever really a kid? I've been learning how to be a proper Malfoy since age one! Since DAY one, actually! Well that is an exaggeration but- but you get the point!

I guess he hits me and yells at me because I do not believe in the same things as he does. For starters he is a bloody Death Eater, and I am the lucky mother effer to follow in his footsteps. I've come so close to getting my dark mark its frightening. Most things do not scare me. But Voldemort does. Sometimes my father does. I have even seen Voldemort before. I've seen him plenty, sitting in my own home. My OWN home. The DARK LORD in MY HOME. It's terrifying. He is a disgusting creature. I have never seen such a soulless being. My old stuffed animal in the closet has more life then he does! His voices is chilling and runs chills up my spine into my core. It irks me how he simply kills all those muggles, muggle-borns, and halfbloods in my home. The smell of a dead body left to rot is sickening. It makes voldemort laugh to see innocent people crumple to the floor like a puppet with no more strings.

I've never killed, contrary to popular belief among the Gryffindors. THE GRYFFINDORS! UGH! I will never understand why on earth they allowed there to be a house of idiotically brave bastards who cause nothing but trouble for themselves. And DO NOT even get me started on HARRY POTTER! Ugh! So FULL of himself. He thinks he is SOOO cool and everyone thinks hes SOOO grand! Him and his sidekick Ron Weasley run around thinking they own the place. They hate me. I hate them.

She is different. The girl. Hermione. Hermione Granger. She is… special. She, of course, is friends with Potty and Weasel, as I like to call them. She is just… Granger. She is friends with my best friend. Blaise Zabini. He likes her, its obvious. I saw them at the Yule Ball a few years back. Do I like Hermione? Who doesn't. I am a stupid teenage boy who doesn't know how to handle her. So, I make her cry. I made her cry. I called her a mudblood. Why? Cause she is one. Yeah, I know- harsh! But I have to put up walls. I am just gonna get hurt by another girl, right? And that brings me to… Parkinson

Ha…. She is about the only girl to break my heart. Is it cliché to say she was my sun and my earth? Whatever. She didn't know all the ways I loved her. She took a chance and made other plans to like cheat on me! Too bad her plans came crashing down. Stupid idiot.

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO SAY WHAT YOU DID! I ALREADY KNOW!" My voice boomed through my room. Pansy sat there on my bed, a few small tears falling from her eyes.

"How…?" I cut her off

"I FOUND OUT FROM HIM!"

"Draco…! Drakie, love-"

"No. Now there's just no chance with you and me. There will NEVER be!" I ignored my face heating up, signalling me I would cry if she didn't get out. It was all too much.

"Get out."

"But-"

"I said GET OUT!"

Doesn't that make you sad about it- the situation I mean. She told me she loved me, so why did she leave me all alone? Ha! And it's so funny, cause now thats she needs me when she owls my home- girl I refuse! Like she MUST have me confused with some other guy! But anyway, the bridges were burned and now it's her time to cry. Eh, it is whatever. It isn't whatever. I can't think of Granger now. Not after Pansy. Bitch. She can cry me a river. A long-ass river. And when she builds a bridge to get over it... I hope the bridge burns.