To Whomever Picks This Up:
My name is Tom Marvolo, and I shall not give you my last name, for I hate it more than anything else in the world. My story has been one filled with blood, and I do not regret it.
Muggles. The very word makes me shake with hatred and loathing. They have ruined my life. From the very beginning, to this very end, they have made it detestable.
From the very beginning it seemed they all wanted to see me dead. My muggle father abandoned my mother and I before I was born, leaving me to a life of poverty and broken promises. That is something no child should have to endure.
It is no wonder I am bitter and cynical about everything. As a young child, I was treated as daft, and my fellow orphans whispered and taunted me for my strange ways. I found comfort in finding ways for them to meet their demises.
Of course, it wasn't until I was much older that I actually preformed these deeds.
Still, as I lie here dying, I can hear their jeers and comments as if it was yesterday, and I was still in that miserable hellhole they called an orphanage.
'Queer Tom,' they laughed, throwing rocks and dirt clods.
At Hogwarts, things were not very different. Even though I had my fellow Slytherins, the mud bloods still avoided me at all costs, treating me like I was diseased. It was just like the orphanage; only now, I had others to whom I could complain about the muggles. Yet, I still felt uncomfortable around the Slytherins. Partially because they were all purebloods and I was a half-blood. Of course I never told any of them, that would be suicidal, but it felt strange to have to hide my true heritage.
People accuse me of being a sadist and murdered, yet they do not know how lonely I have felt my entire life.
With no family to speak of, I had no one to confide in, save the sweet murmuring of the evils that inhabited the Dark Forest. That was where I met true evil, and they in turn led me to the Basilisk, who helped me to take out my hatred.
I now realize my folly, but would not take my actions back, even if I could. Perhaps I could have sought help from my professors, but pride, pride prevented me. My pride has been my undoing.
I do not seek forgiveness, and I never will, but all my life I have desperately wanted acceptance from my father's people.
Many of my victims call me a monster, but like Frankenstein's monster, it is only the circumstances that has made me thus.
Sincerely,
Tom
My name is Tom Marvolo, and I shall not give you my last name, for I hate it more than anything else in the world. My story has been one filled with blood, and I do not regret it.
Muggles. The very word makes me shake with hatred and loathing. They have ruined my life. From the very beginning, to this very end, they have made it detestable.
From the very beginning it seemed they all wanted to see me dead. My muggle father abandoned my mother and I before I was born, leaving me to a life of poverty and broken promises. That is something no child should have to endure.
It is no wonder I am bitter and cynical about everything. As a young child, I was treated as daft, and my fellow orphans whispered and taunted me for my strange ways. I found comfort in finding ways for them to meet their demises.
Of course, it wasn't until I was much older that I actually preformed these deeds.
Still, as I lie here dying, I can hear their jeers and comments as if it was yesterday, and I was still in that miserable hellhole they called an orphanage.
'Queer Tom,' they laughed, throwing rocks and dirt clods.
At Hogwarts, things were not very different. Even though I had my fellow Slytherins, the mud bloods still avoided me at all costs, treating me like I was diseased. It was just like the orphanage; only now, I had others to whom I could complain about the muggles. Yet, I still felt uncomfortable around the Slytherins. Partially because they were all purebloods and I was a half-blood. Of course I never told any of them, that would be suicidal, but it felt strange to have to hide my true heritage.
People accuse me of being a sadist and murdered, yet they do not know how lonely I have felt my entire life.
With no family to speak of, I had no one to confide in, save the sweet murmuring of the evils that inhabited the Dark Forest. That was where I met true evil, and they in turn led me to the Basilisk, who helped me to take out my hatred.
I now realize my folly, but would not take my actions back, even if I could. Perhaps I could have sought help from my professors, but pride, pride prevented me. My pride has been my undoing.
I do not seek forgiveness, and I never will, but all my life I have desperately wanted acceptance from my father's people.
Many of my victims call me a monster, but like Frankenstein's monster, it is only the circumstances that has made me thus.
Sincerely,
Tom