Title: Never Perfect Enough
Author: Duff Chick
Author Email: amanda_Malfoy@yahoo.com
Category: Angst
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A dark Draco POV piece. Everyone thinks he has it all, when inside his whole world is falling apart.
Warnings: Dark themes, language, mentions of cutting and suicide
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.
Feedback: Yes, please! Reviews make my day ^_^
A/N: I love angst. Especially Draco-angst. This is my perception on how Draco thinks and feels about things. I believe he is a good person who was taken down the wrong path. And no, I don't believe his father abuses him, just expects too much of him.
* * * * * * * * * *
I hate them all. Every single one of them.
You may look at me as if I'm crazy. Doesn't make a different to me. No one really knows me anyway. Everyone sees me as a spoiled, pretentious brat with a sharp tongue. Even the best of them judge me without getting to know me.
Fucking hypocrites.
I'm not saying it's their entire fault. Only mostly their fault. I only show them the surface. I show the world I'm strong, that I'm calm and collected. Never a perfect blond hair out of place. I can handle anything, or if a solution is beyond my reach, then daddy will always be there to help. I have class. I have elegance. I have it all.
I wish.
Materialistically speaking, I could have anything I ever desired. My parents have always fulfilled my every whim and need. I am their only child, after all. Most people at school envy me greatly. I can say that without feeling egotistical, as it is the truth. I know the Weasley scum would kill to have even half of what I own. But despite all of this, there was always one thing no one could ever give me.
Strength.
On the outside, I'm together. On the inside, I'm falling apart. Crumbling. Each day gets worse and worse. My world both inside and out is falling apart. I have such high standards to live up to. My parents expect me to be the top student at Hogwarts. Hermione always seems to outshine me. They expect me to be the best Quidditch player at Hogwarts. Harry Potter always outshines me. I could try to be a nice person, but I know everyone already loves Harry and they'd only think I was up to something and accuse me of being sneaky. After all, they look at me as a cold, heartless bastard. How much easier it would be if I really was that cold. There have been many nights I've just silently sat and thought. I'm not as shallow as I appear, my thoughts run deep. I wonder of my existence and why I am here and what my fate is. If there is such a thing as fate. At times like this, I wish I had someone to talk to. I have no one. I only rely and trust in myself. Bad things happen to those who put their trust in others.
They only get hurt in the end.
And if I ever did tell anyone, they would only say, "Your life is perfect. What do you have to be sad about?" Truth is, I have a lot of emotional issues. I feel insecure almost every day. I look into the mirror and my face is too pale and my hair isn't quite blond enough and I'm just a little too short. My personality could use improvement as well. All of this coupled with constant feelings of worthlessness and dejectedness make for a pretty unhappy person. Sometimes the pain gets too much. Lately I've taken to cutting myself. Never fatal, unfortunately, but enough to let some of the pain out. Plus, the sight of crimson blood on porcelain skin is morbidly beautiful. I've thought many times about ending my life. It should be so easy. No more pain, just sweet, empty bliss.
But I'm too weak.
So I'm still here and still living, if but a half-life. Most of the time I only feel as if I exist, but I'm not really living. My passion has been killed. I write and draw a little, and that sometimes helps. I keep it private of course, if anyone knew what I was thinking they'd shun me. Within my own house, at least, I am accepted and respected. I entertain the other Slytherins at least, and they treat me as a good acquaintance. But they're just the same; they don't know me any better than the Gryffindors do. They still think I have it all, that I'm on top of the world. On the contrary, I feel as if the world's against me, crushing me down day by day. I've never live up to all the expectations. I'll never be good enough for anyone. I'll never be happy.
If only I were perfect.
Author: Duff Chick
Author Email: amanda_Malfoy@yahoo.com
Category: Angst
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A dark Draco POV piece. Everyone thinks he has it all, when inside his whole world is falling apart.
Warnings: Dark themes, language, mentions of cutting and suicide
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.
Feedback: Yes, please! Reviews make my day ^_^
A/N: I love angst. Especially Draco-angst. This is my perception on how Draco thinks and feels about things. I believe he is a good person who was taken down the wrong path. And no, I don't believe his father abuses him, just expects too much of him.
* * * * * * * * * *
I hate them all. Every single one of them.
You may look at me as if I'm crazy. Doesn't make a different to me. No one really knows me anyway. Everyone sees me as a spoiled, pretentious brat with a sharp tongue. Even the best of them judge me without getting to know me.
Fucking hypocrites.
I'm not saying it's their entire fault. Only mostly their fault. I only show them the surface. I show the world I'm strong, that I'm calm and collected. Never a perfect blond hair out of place. I can handle anything, or if a solution is beyond my reach, then daddy will always be there to help. I have class. I have elegance. I have it all.
I wish.
Materialistically speaking, I could have anything I ever desired. My parents have always fulfilled my every whim and need. I am their only child, after all. Most people at school envy me greatly. I can say that without feeling egotistical, as it is the truth. I know the Weasley scum would kill to have even half of what I own. But despite all of this, there was always one thing no one could ever give me.
Strength.
On the outside, I'm together. On the inside, I'm falling apart. Crumbling. Each day gets worse and worse. My world both inside and out is falling apart. I have such high standards to live up to. My parents expect me to be the top student at Hogwarts. Hermione always seems to outshine me. They expect me to be the best Quidditch player at Hogwarts. Harry Potter always outshines me. I could try to be a nice person, but I know everyone already loves Harry and they'd only think I was up to something and accuse me of being sneaky. After all, they look at me as a cold, heartless bastard. How much easier it would be if I really was that cold. There have been many nights I've just silently sat and thought. I'm not as shallow as I appear, my thoughts run deep. I wonder of my existence and why I am here and what my fate is. If there is such a thing as fate. At times like this, I wish I had someone to talk to. I have no one. I only rely and trust in myself. Bad things happen to those who put their trust in others.
They only get hurt in the end.
And if I ever did tell anyone, they would only say, "Your life is perfect. What do you have to be sad about?" Truth is, I have a lot of emotional issues. I feel insecure almost every day. I look into the mirror and my face is too pale and my hair isn't quite blond enough and I'm just a little too short. My personality could use improvement as well. All of this coupled with constant feelings of worthlessness and dejectedness make for a pretty unhappy person. Sometimes the pain gets too much. Lately I've taken to cutting myself. Never fatal, unfortunately, but enough to let some of the pain out. Plus, the sight of crimson blood on porcelain skin is morbidly beautiful. I've thought many times about ending my life. It should be so easy. No more pain, just sweet, empty bliss.
But I'm too weak.
So I'm still here and still living, if but a half-life. Most of the time I only feel as if I exist, but I'm not really living. My passion has been killed. I write and draw a little, and that sometimes helps. I keep it private of course, if anyone knew what I was thinking they'd shun me. Within my own house, at least, I am accepted and respected. I entertain the other Slytherins at least, and they treat me as a good acquaintance. But they're just the same; they don't know me any better than the Gryffindors do. They still think I have it all, that I'm on top of the world. On the contrary, I feel as if the world's against me, crushing me down day by day. I've never live up to all the expectations. I'll never be good enough for anyone. I'll never be happy.
If only I were perfect.