I never really felt as if I was ever really justified to feel angry or depressed. I had everything, didn't I? I mean, I got along great with my parents, and my older brother, well, our relationship was complicated, but I still felt like I had no bloody right to feel like this.

I used to duel with Snape—Severus—a lot in order to go back to feeling happy, or something like it. He'd goad me into duelling. Whenever I gave in, I'd end up on the floor, broken but defiant, unwilling to accept defeat, even when he threatened to use the Cruciatus. But the truth is that I wanted him to cast it on me, to give me a legitimate reason to feel hurt.

I suppose that was also the reason for what happened with Barty. He was my best friend, but let's just say that I should have stood up for myself for once. Maybe I would have been able to keep Bella away more easily? No, that probably would have made no difference.

Sev was right. I was pathetic. I let my best friend do whatever he wanted to me, and then I went and denied everything. I pretended that I didn't give a damn about my older brother, when I knew he only escaped because he had to. I was a horrible person.

Still am, really.

I'm in love with that girl from work. She's far too good to merit being even vaguely involved with me. I'm silent, and I'm a coward. I haven't even spoken to her. Not to mention that until recently I was in an unhealthy relationship with my best friend. Hell, he deserves someone better than me.

I want death. I think that's why I'm doing this, why I decided to take this way out. (It has nothing to do with the fact that I can't--won't--kill Sirius.)

I don't regret that I told Kreacher to leave. The water's cold; I always liked the cold.

The inferi don't need to be so forceful. I was going to kill myself anyway.