I hated being me

I hated being me. Well, I would have done, if I had known who I was. You see, I don't think there was a Draco Malfoy. There was the obnoxious and cruel brat, the potential dark wizard fashioned by his merciless father. There was the cool boy, popular amongst his house. The one all the other Slytherins liked – yeah, right. The one all the other Slytherins were too scared to get on the wrong side of – well, I guess that's more like it. Even then, the things he did, the things he said – everyone expected them from him. And they got them. Then, of course, there was the one with no friends, no love, no hope. The lonely one. He was invisible, and I suppose in that way he came the closest to being me, I, Draco Malfoy.

I wonder what I would have been like. I don't know what I was like because I was fake – the many faces of Draco Malfoy. They were what everyone knew. They were all I knew. Maybe underneath it all, I was exactly as I appeared. I never got the chance to find out. Perhaps I actually was cold and heartless, as everyone saw me. But they got it wrong, all wrong. No, they got one thing right – I really did love attention, good or bad. I wanted to be noticed, or at least, the cool Slytherin boy did.

I could have said that I just wanted to fade, out of the picture, to be forgotten, never to have existed. But that would have been a lie. I didn't want to fade, I wanted to go out with a bang, I had to die in style. That's why I wrote this – I wanted you to remember me, and oh, you will remember me. I liked to shock people with my supposed-self. I wanted attention, I always did. And what is suicide but a plea for just that? A cry for help…

Gotcha, didn't I? Were you feeling sorry for me? Were you thinking that it wasn't his fault that he was like he was? Were you thinking that, well, maybe he wasn't quite that bad? Much as I appreciate that, get over it! I was a complete bastard! I knew exactly what I was doing when I hurt people, when I was cruel. I wasn't a lost and misconstrued child. I knew exactly what I was, I had always known. I wasn't fashioned evil, I was born evil, naturally evil, pure evil and I loved what I was. I was Draco Malfoy.

Life was illusion. Death was meant to be a show.

What are you thinking now? What's true? Does it feel unreal? Of course it does.

See, it was, it is, all lies. Everyone lies, to each other, to themselves. Everything is nothing. Nothing is true, nothing is real, it's all an illusion.

One thing I wrote was true. I hated being me.

Do you believe me? Do you believe you? Do you believe this is happening?

What can I say? I had to die in style.