Disclaimer: I don't own it.

Just one more sip, gulp, swallow. So very thirsty. Why am I doing this again?

I remember a portrait of my grandfather in an ornate wooden frame that hung in the front hallway of our home. Grandfather was a Pureblood and proud of it. His dress in life showed his pride in his heritage, he was always impeccably dressed with snake adorned buttons on his robes. I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. Sirius did not. I thought that made me the better son.

So weak. So thirsty. I need water to quench this terrible thirst.

I remember sitting in the upstairs hallway while Sirius and Father fought below. Sirius was so determined to be different. He wanted to be a Gryffindor. He got that. He wanted to change. He called our family stagnate. Father lashed out, calling him a disappointment. I felt so superior to him then. Looking back over the distance of these years, he seemed like a dim light trying to shine through blacked out windows.

Water! Glorious water. So thirsty. Hands grab me, try to drag me down. I am so tired, so weak. I let them.

Father was unbearable after Sirius ran away. Living with him was like tiptoeing around a tiger. He fought with Mother when she pushed him to truly disown Sirius. He was so angry he threw a blasting curse at the mantle. I don't understand why he is so upset. I am still here. I stand by his ideals. Am I just not good enough?

The hands drag me down. I struggle weakly to no avail. This is probably the end of my life.

Mother calls me her precious baby boy. I hate that. She has always done that and I wish she would just once treat me like she does Sirius. Even the cold treatment she gives him would be better than being smothered by the weight of her expectations. But I will prove to her and to Father that I am worthy of being his heir and that I am more than a child. Bellatrix has been telling me of a man who can help me prove myself. Bellatrix's laughter is infectious. When she laughs, we who follow behind her can't help but feel her excitement.

Too much water. It chokes me. The hands won't release me. I struggle more. It does no good.

It was my first night as a Death Eater. We are going on a raid to a Muggle town and I followed Bellatrix into a Muggle hovel to bring justice to the scum. All for the glory of our Lord Voldemort. Or so they said. All I remember is that there were children there and the mother was pregnant. As I stood over the youngest child, her terror filled blue eyes met mine and I knew I could never kill this child. And then the light left her eyes as a green light streaked passed me. I cried, later. Much later.

The water is pressing in on me. The hands drag me further under. Kreacher? Why are you letting me die alone?

Voldemort is insane. It took me a while, but I finally realize that Sirius was right all along. But the Dark Lord has done so much to ensure his life will stretch to abnormal lengths. He has created the foulest thing... Horcrux. Just the thought of the terrible things he had to do to create it gives me insomnia. I may never sleep again.

I don't have much breath left. I know this is the end. To whoever can hear my thoughts, I wrote a note. Perhaps it was petty of me, but I wanted the world to know that in the end I chose differently. I chose Sirius and the light. I rejected the Dark Lord and Bellatrix. And I am even now letting the Dark Lord kill me. I feel the cold dead hands drag me down. The light is fading from my sight. I just hope that it wasn't in vain. Kreacher will get away and will destroy that piece of the Dark Lord's soul. And my death will not be in vain.

"To the Dark Lord,

I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more."

R.A.B.