I've grown up around death eaters it's the only way that I know. Father has always been involved with the dark arts and as he is my father I've always wanted to be like him. I'd always love to make trips with him to Knockturn Alley so he could pick up the latest dark artifact for his collection. Now I'm starting to wonder if I'd like to be like my father.
Right at this very moment he is sitting in Azkaban rotting away and I don't want that, I've never wanted that.
Father always used to talk about finding the cure to purifying the wizarding race, but it is only now that I see I am part of the disease. The disease that is killing many innocent people; people that should not have to die. The mark on my arm makes me immune, but being immune doesn't make the disease go away; it only makes it fester so that it doesn't have full control of your body, but just that little piece that you thrive on. Mum knows what I'm talking about, but if I ever confronted dad or Aunt Bella about this they would probably curse me to tomorrow; they don't see good in people like I do. I may have done evil things, but at least I now realize that I was wrong. I've realized I'm the disease.
