An Epitaph of Derailed Dreams
Author's Note: I've been hatching this idea for quite some time…I'm not entirely sure how well it will come across, but I shall make an attempt. I'm continuing with my ever-present goal to reach 1000 reviews on a single piece…so far this hasn't come to pass, but my hope is still intact…so REVIEW!
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, setting or anything else you recognize…the plot, however, is mine…
'I will hang myself. I will make it clear that I was not a mere 'troubled child.' I am in seventh year, damnit, a decent student. I am not troubled, and I am not a child. I think I shall hang myself in a place where I can exemplify myself as the victimized criminal I am. The Great Hall. I shall hang myself in the Great Hall. And they shall see me dead.'
Draco's eyes glazed over as his cold fingers looped around the length of the cord sheathed inside the sleeves of his expensive dress robes. 'At least I'll die in a decent robe. Show the filthy mudbloods what kind of death masks money can buy.'
His glossy pupils stared blankly towards the arriving end of the hallway, his mind slowly killing himself before the noose could wear itself upon his throat. Each thought strangling another before they had a chance to be mused over. 'Mother?'No. 'Pain?' No. 'Time?'No. 'Father?'No. No. No. No.
Unconsciously his feet managed to carry his weight down the corridor leading to the Great Hall. The other passageways were empty, the silence almost resounded, echoed in Draco's ears as he moved blindly. Midnight is a lonely hour.'
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Footsteps. The sudden arrival, or perhaps realization of sound broke his trance. Draco stopped to listen. The footsteps stopped as well. After a minute of silence, Draco continued on his passage.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Footsteps again. Louder this time. Once again, Draco stopped to listen. Silence. He continued down the corridor.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Footsteps once again. This time Draco ignored the sound echoing in his head. He knew exactly who it was. It was his own reality catching up with him. It was precisely what he was trying to get away from. And so he ignored the pacing footsteps.
The doors of the Great Hall seemed heavier than they looked as Draco lifted the iron handle. It creaked emptily as he pushed the doors open.
'Now I shall show them all my pain. My battle. My self-righteous suicide.' Draco thought decisively to himself as he surveyed the Great Hall.
'Where to end my life?' No ceiling hooks to affix the rope, no overhanging beams. 'Aha.' His eyes, suddenly sharp and unshielded, caught upon the bar holding a row of candles near the large windows behind professor Dumbledore's chair. His throne. His sacrificial altar. Slowly, with great purpose, Draco strode over to the full length window.
Someone had beaten him to it.
Author's Note: Ok, here's the deal…8 reviews before a new chapter can show up!