Thinking Back ((one shot))
Sometimes, I look back at my life and I think about all that I've done. My worthless childhood was full of malice and despair. I can recount the numerous times my despicable father would beat my mother, through all her pleads for him to stop. I can recall the frequent times he would taunt me, pushing me to the edge of insanity, causing my mind to become a little unstable. I would fill my hours studying, trying to prove myself, my self worth to him, but did it matter? I think not. I look back on those years and curse my father for being such a tyrant and I curse my mother for being so weak. Why was she weak? Did she not have an ounce of strength left in her soul to fight the demon that would torment her being? Or was it something else? Was it the love that she felt for him? I think about how my life was filled with misery and mental anguish and how that led to me becoming the man I grew up to be. Or, that I was.
I would never forget seeing her for the first time. Lily Evans was as beautiful as I would ever wish her to be. Her eyes were of a brilliant green hue, which could pierce the soul and her hair was a red that glowed like the glow of the sun. I felt her innocence and wanted to take her in my arms forever. I fell in love with her the moment I laid eyes upon her. I wondered what house she would be placed into once we arrived at school. I hoped that it would be Slytherin, because I knew where I was going. Was she to follow? All along, she was placed elsewhere, leaving me to yearn for her ever more, wanting her closeness, feel her presence in my life, which was and endless void of desertion. No one has ever cared for me, ever loved me, and so kept my feelings to myself. By doing this, I knew that my heart would stay intact, not be broken.
My memories of her will never waiver, even though she met her end at such a young age. I will never forget the only one that my heart would ever let me love. My tortured soul can no longer grasp the feelings for love. I am dead. I have lived a life of suffering and longing for compassion. My soul drifts in the realms of emptiness, only to be plagued by unhappiness, just as my life saw nothing but desolation. If I could change one thing about it, I would change that I never told her. I should have said something to her, even though it wouldn't have mattered much. In truth, I feared telling her the truth; I didn't want my heart to be broken. I couldn't have that anymore, so I kept it to myself, which was a horrible mistake.
Now, as my soul drifts in an endless realm, I am haunted by memories, memories that will forever torment me. I think back on it all and wish I would have thought better.