I shivered, wondering how much longer he was going to keep this up. I missed my bed, the warmth and security it brought me. How could he do this to me?

Voldemort. The name people won't even dare to say. The name that leaves destruction and death in its path. Voldemort. The name of the person who I spit in its face. It. I can't even call him a human being any more. The terrible things he has caused.

Most people wondered what I thought I was. When I went to school, I tried to be just another student, trying to pass her days peacefully. It didn't work, and my cone of silence lasted 2 weeks at most. I guess that's what I get, for being born from such people.

The one thing I can't contradict is my looks. No matter how hard I tried to. The glares from the other girls, as the boys watched as I walked, and leering glances. Most people wish they could be just like me, with straight blonde hair, and icy blue eyes. But they're wrong. I would never wish my fate on anyone, not even my worst enemy, for what I am, I am, a Freak.

I'm different. My friends aren't wizards or witches, my favourite teacher isn't Professor McGonagall, and I don't have a crush on a pureblood boy from school, No. My best friend is a boy, Josh, he's a muggle, and we've been dating for two years. What's wrong with that? Nothing, except that my parents are strict on their policy's. If I'm caught sneaking around with Josh, I can expect no dinner.

My mission in life has been drilled into my head. It's not my choice, for if it was, I would be in Canada, skiing for leisure, or in Hawaii, sunbaking on the beach. No, my mission in life is to pass on my father's word. It's not my Father's fault really. He thinks he's doing the right thing. I think it has something to do with his childhood; his parent's died when he was only about one. Maybe a bit younger. He grew up with people who abhorred magic, and stopped him from doing any of it.

My Mother. She's a strong woman, and I hope my death is not too harsh on her, as she is the only one who truly knows me. Who knows that I disagree with father, and she agrees with me, but is unable to do anything about it. She helps me though. She always has something for me, a bit of chocolate after the dementors, a bedtime story at night, or some food, if I have had none. She will find her courage, I know she will. She will find it one day, and it will help her. She will be free.

When I was young, about 8, my mother snuck me out, to go to a muggle church. Catholic, I think it was. There was a man, he stood in the centre at the front, and talked about things I didn't understand, not back then, anyway. One line always stuck out to me though, "Honour your father, and your mother". I have stuck by that, my entire life I have stuck by that one saying I heard when I was only 8. No matter what my father does, I will still honour him, even if it is just because he was the one who made me.

That church, it has a donations bowl, and as I peered inside, I saw a coin. It was different, and I think that's what stood out for me. I remember that day so clearly now, I had looked around me, and when no one was watching, I had taken that coin. I took it, and I hid it, and for the past 9 years, I have kept that coin. I look at it, and I flip it. I think to myself, will it be Heads, or Tails. It is a reminder of what is outside my prison doors. It's symbolic of me. Different, Unique.

The door to my prison opened, and I got up as fast as I could, without hurting my self. I limped towards the door, out into the open, and took my place. As a stood in front of him, in front of my father, waiting for death, I stared.

I am proud to say I did not beg, or plead; I did not even asked to be spared. I stood there, and waited for my execution. I stared, rebelliously, even after he said those two words, and I saw the green light coming towards me,

"Avada Kedavra"

I, Selene Elizabeth Riddle, was finally at peace, killed by my own father.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All I own is the stuff you don't recognize.

A/N: Just a one-shot I had in my head. Decided to put it down on paper. Now that you've read it, reviews would be much appreciated; constructive criticism is fine, but no flamers. It's okay to review even if it's just to tell me that you liked it. Thanks! Rina xx