Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns everything, not me.
Hide and Seek
Saturday, March 24
They don't understand me. They just don't get me. When will anyone learn that they'll never know the pain, the constant, depressing aching of abandonment? I'm alone in my fight. Completely alone. I could do great things, if I had motivation. That I know. I mean, I can even make other people do things, things that they would never dream of doing. But, I don't have motivation. Instead, I have these people who supposedly care for me. But, they don't get me. People don't get me. They don't get anything.
Monday, March 26
I hate everyone. I hate everyone and everything. If only I could put into words how frustrating life is. Well, my life at least. No one loves me. I can only feel the incriminating glares and the belittling smirks thrown carelessly at my back. I'm an outcast. Well, that's partially okay with me. I know that the others taunt me, so I show them pain. I have the ability to make people fear me, and I like using it. And they hate me for that, too. I only know hate from others. Hate, fear and arrogance. I sometimes just wish I knew happiness. I sometimes wish I knew love. I sometimes wish I knew something, anything but indifference, anger and sadness. I just want to see how it feels like. But, it's no use wishing for something that won't ever happen.
Thursday, March 29
You never thought ahead, did you, Mum? You selfish creep. You never did realize that you were condemning your son to the horrible state of existence I am in now, did you? I hate you for ever living, ever breathing in this condemned world. I hate you for dying, for cowardly giving up when you knew your son would need you. I hate you.
Saturday, March 31
I killed someone's beloved pet rabbit today. I felt so good after I had done it. The annoying kid deserved it. Right now, I feel no remorse. No sympathy, no regret. I don't quite know how I did it, but I'm glad I did. I wish you could be here, Mum. I wish you could see what I have turned into.
Wednesday, April 4
Come, please. I need you. I don't know who I am. I can't find you. Where are you? Is this is a game? If this hide-and-seek? It's lasting too long. Please call the game over soon. Am I the seeker? Or am I the hider? I'm looking for you. Where are you? I'm hiding from you. Where are you?
Thursday, April 5
The truth. I need the truth. I don't want to know, but I need to know.
Sunday, April 8
I've spent too long trying to locate a clue, trying to locate a possibility. I've spent too long looking for something that won't help me in my case. I will not be so foolish now. I know now. You have left me without purpose, you have left me without a parent. You have left me without kind, thoughtful words that mean nothing. I'm glad. I'm glad you're not here.
Tuesday, April 10
I cannot live like this. I cannot spend my life feeling oppressed under the lies that everyone has been carelessly tossing upon me. I cannot spend my life cramped in this pitiful little enclosure. Waiting. Hoping. All for you. All for nothing. You can't imagine how claustrophobic I feel in here, sharing my little space with my friends called "hope". Ha! Hope. Hope is a wasted thing. Wasted time, wasted energy. I will not waste my life hoping.
Sunday, April 15
I now realize. I now realize that nothing counts in this game. Nothing counts when no one is playing with you.
I have spent a foolish amount of time looking for you. Looking for a reason. I have wasted too much time waiting here. Waiting and hoping for you to suddenly come and attack me with the truth.
I refused to believe I was playing a pointless game. I was immature. I refused to admit my mistakes. But, now that I know to stop, I will make no more mistakes. I have no room for errors anymore. I have no will to keep playing your stupid, cowardly game.
I don't care about you anymore, Mum. You hear that? You can't hurt me with the truth anymore. You can't even touch me. I do not live with your rules. I can now walk away calmly, leave you to wonder where I have gone. I can abandon your game of hide-and-seek. You can't control me with the pressure of losing anymore. I can escape from your absurd, meaningless game of hiding and searching for something that does not exist. I quit.
Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed (or not?) this kind of dark, kind of angsty, and kind of depressing one-shot. This isn't what I usually write, but I felt like I had to write something like this. I should've tried to make this more deep and more sad (I'm always insecure about my writing...), but I didn't want to rewrite the whole thing. So... this is what you get. It was really fun to write. In a way.
It's hard to imagine Voldemort as nothing but evil, but I refused to believe that he was just born evil. Surprisingly enough, as I was brainstorming, I could actually imagine Tom Riddle as someone originally searching for his parents, searching for love. If he grew up like that, then I think that, at one point, he would've just realized that his search was a fruitless one. Through this piece, I had been trying to convey the sudden emotional change that Tom would've made, from hoping so desperately hard, to not even caring anymore. I hope I somewhat succeeded...