My Choice
It was my choice. No one could change my mind. I knew exactly what I was going to do and when I was going to do it. In a couple of hours from making my decision it was going to happen. I was going to do something I'd never done before and no one could stop me.
That day I realised something I should've realised a long time ago. I wasn't who I wanted to be because I let people trample all over me and make me who they want me to be. But I was going to change that. I was going to become the person I wanted to be.
I didn't want to be the popular guy that everyone looks up to and dreams about. I didn't want to be the bad guy that threatens people younger than me to do all my work. I didn't want to be an enemy to the people I wanted to befriend.
I wanted to be nice to my friends so they actually wanted to stick around me and don't just hang around me because they've been threatened. I wanted more friends than enemies. I wanted to get a girlfriend that I actually care about, not one that I'm just paired off with because it'll give me a better name.
Most of all, I wanted to be me.
That's why I was sitting there waiting for my father to get home in a couple of hours. Of course, he didn't know what was going to happen when he got there. If he had known then he would've brought a couple of his friends and I wouldn't have stood a chance. But seeing as he didn't know, I had a good chance of succeeding in what I'd set out to do.
When I was little I used to think my father was a hero. He was my hero. I would worship the ground he walked on and dream of one day being like him. My perception of him starting slowly changing as I grew up. He would punish me a lot more and I used to think it was because I wasn't good enough. In his eyes, that was the truth. The real truth, however, was that because I was sub-consciously fighting to be more like me, I was punished.
So there I sat, waiting for the moment I could stand up, look him in the eye and explain to him that I was going to change. Of course, he would object and say that I needed to concentrate more on the tasks he set before me.
But I'd planned it all out. I knew that when he said that, I would not give in. I would stay focused and become who I wanted to be.
I hadn't meant to become a murderer.
My father came home and I stood up, walking over to him. I looked him straight in the eyes as I had planned and explained that I wasn't who I wanted to be and that I was going to change. So far so good.
And yes, he told me that, "such nonsense shouldn't run through your head, you need to focus on the tasks I set before you". I shook my head and told him that I didn't want to be like that anymore. I dare say, he didn't take it well.
He pulled his wand out, telling me in a firm voice that if I didn't reconsider he would have to punish me. Shivers ran up and down my spine, telling me that I needed to back down. But something made me pull out my own wand, and I pointed it at him.
We were both at the end of each other's wand.
My face darkened and I told him that he couldn't control me anymore, that I would never make such a stupid mistake as he did and follow Voldemort. I said so many things that I now regret. But I had no idea what was going to happen.
A slight flicker of fear passed over my father's face but was quickly replaced with anger. But that flicker of fear had given me a strength because I had seen that he was afraid. At the time, I did not think I was afraid.
The next few moments were filled with excrutiating pain and determination. I was placed under the Cruciatus curse, writhing on the floor in pain.
My wand never left my hand.
Struggling to get up, I could hear laughing. The only possible explanation was that my father was laughing at me and that made me more determined to get up and show him that I was stronger than him.
When I managed to look up with fire in my eyes, what I saw was not expected. Volemort was standing beside my father, laughing. His wand was also pointing at me and that was when I realised my fathers wand had been lowered slightly.
I never thought I'd see a tear on my fathers face, but there it was. Slowly making it's way down his face to show the pain he was feeling. I was too angry to notice it was real.
As soon as Voldemort lowered his wand and the curse was lifted, I leapt to my feet and yelled the most unforgivable curse at my father. Shock registered in his eyes before he fell to the floor. I had thought it was the best thing to do, until I realised I'd just become exactly what Voldemort wanted me to become.
I was the murderer of my father.
All of this is the reason why I'm standing here beside Voldemort now. Under the Imperius curse I can't stop myself from doing what I'm told. That's why Harry's here and has to try and defeat Voldemort. I brought him here because I was told to.
Even if I do make it out alive, no one will believe that I was under the Imperius curse. My entire family was known to be followers of Voldemort, I've got no chance.
All I can do is hope for the best, that Harry will win and I'll be set free. Only then will I get a proper chance to become who I really am.
I had no idea that my choice would lead me here. But it has.