Pain and sorrow is an unwelcome friend. I suffer from those two more than
any one would know. They all think I'm just a sixteen-year-old boy living
the life that they dream! In reality, I am nothing near what they neither
think nor could even try to think. No one can figure me out: not even
myself. I constantly wear a mask to conceal my feelings and emotions.
It's so hard sometimes that I can hardly stand to live.
I've thought of suicide many times, but have come away from those thoughts. I try hard not to result in killing myself; it might only bring more misery. My life is constantly full of unloving, torture and loneliness. My father wishes I weren't alive (so I think), and my mum... Well, I don't think she even notices me. I'm ignored, and only find happiness when I find others suffering.
Which is why I sought out Potter on our first day. He was parent-less and I had heard he had grown up with three of the most obnoxious Muggles alive. I thought we could've connected; formed a bond. Guess I was mistaken. The 'Weasley Curse' had already taken its affect on young Potter after sitting in the wretched train compartment with that Weasley for so long. Oh well, life moves on, right?
So, ever since then, I've had no one to confront with my troubles and sorrows. I feel like a prisoner in a war of nerves that is ever lasting. No one would care, no one would even listen; not even my own parents. So, really, I am alone in the world. Nothing ever seems to go the way I want it. I just want to come clean with all my fears and sorrows and, just be myself, in hopes that everyone would treat me like the Draco they know, instead of shunning me out into the cold and forgotten world.
Mother and father argue more than usual. It seems like ever since the end of fourth year started it all. Father is an ex-death eater, you see. He turned to the good side thinking You-Know-Who would never return and not wanting to be on the wrong side. Now, learning of the Dark Lords return, he's become more paranoid, more frantic than I've ever seen. He's moved us out into the middle of nowhere hoping he wouldn't be found. He's become more protective of himself and trying to be strong. I know he's terribly weak, though. You can see it in his life-less eyes.
My father is one of the most hardheaded, selfish, and unsympathetic guys you could ever meet (not including You-Know-Who). I can't remember a time he's ever cried nor gave sympathy to anyone in need of it. In fact, I remember dozens of times when I was just a young boy where he'd push me away. This one time in particular sticks out clear to me, for some reason.
I was only about four or so. I had barely begun learning about the dark world of magic and was so confused. Earlier that day, I accidentally walked in the middle of my father and some guy who were dueling and got hit with a spell. I soon learned that the curse was the Cruciatus Curse. No wonder it hurt like hell!
Anyway, I remember falling to the ground and laying still, fighting the pain, for a long while before the curse was lifted. Even afterwards I didn't feel like moving. The pain lingered afterwards and possibly hurt even worse. It was the most unpleasant experience I've ever gone through to date.
The first person that I saw walking up to me was the guy my father was dueling. He was the one who had hit me with the curse, by accident of course. He leaned down on his knees and placed his hand on my shoulder to turn me on my back (I was laying on my left side). He examined me, making sure I wasn't hurt in any other way, and asking if I was okay. I kept repeating, "Yes, I'm fine" the best I could. It was difficult for me, though, still going through the shock of the accident.
My father, on the other hand, waltzed over ten minutes later and just stood above me. He glared down, his wand pointed directly at my head, and grumbled words to himself. I felt ashamed that I had caused my father embarrassment, and wanted to die right then and there. Looking up at my father with his wand pointed at the space between my eyes, I knew he would be the one ending my life - my own father.
But, he didn't. No, he let me live, unfortunately. He dropped his wand hand to his side, but continued to glare. The other man was staring back up at him in disbelief. Like, he didn't understand what my father was doing. I have to say I was in the same boat as he.
"Get up weakling!" My father spat.
I tried getting up, but winced in pain and fell back to the ground. The man I didn't know placed his hand under my head so I wouldn't hit my head very hard on the ground and cause any more damage. My father didn't do anything to help me, nope, not one God forsaken thing. He just continued to glare and mumble. He did point his wand at my head again, threatening me. I became full of fear and didn't know what to do.
"If you can't get up, then you don't deserve a life, Draco. If I were to let you live, I would be cursing you. You wouldn't be able to last one day with me. Get up, or die!" He shouted.
"Lucius, he's only a kid. Let him be. I'm sorry for destroying you land, but I didn't mean any harm." The other man said, standing up and looking him straight in the eye.
I didn't hear anything else. I had gone deaf at my own will. I just continued to lie still on the cold, dusty ground and pretend to be invisible. But, the next thing I knew, the man I did not know came falling to the ground with a loud thud. I didn't know what had happened, but I knew he was dead. His life-less body lay still and cold in front of me. I shut my eyes so tightly that I began to see white shiny stars.
"Get in the house now, or sleep with the wild animals." My father grumbled at me before heading into the house.
I just stayed still. Tears began to trickle out of my eyes and falling onto the dirt ground below me. That was the first time ever crying. I haven't cried since. I don't want my father to think I'm a wimp or some loser Weasley. No, I wanted to show him that I was a strong Malfoy and wouldn't shame the Malfoy name. I have been trying to gain his trust since I was five; still hadn't succeeded.
Now, here we are on September 1st. I sit beneath the roof of the Hogwarts train that would be taking me to Hogwarts for my sixth year. Father has been missing for a few weeks now, and my mother is going insane and made me go alone. I seriously have forgotten the meaning of 'happiness' and try desperately to remember. I wouldn't care if my father never returned. I mean, of course I would be sad if he never did, but it is just pay back for all the cruel things he's done to my mother and myself. I bet he's probably in some cave in the middle of the country hiding from the Dark Lord. Good luck to him!
I am Draco Malfoy, and this is a story of one year of my life...
I've thought of suicide many times, but have come away from those thoughts. I try hard not to result in killing myself; it might only bring more misery. My life is constantly full of unloving, torture and loneliness. My father wishes I weren't alive (so I think), and my mum... Well, I don't think she even notices me. I'm ignored, and only find happiness when I find others suffering.
Which is why I sought out Potter on our first day. He was parent-less and I had heard he had grown up with three of the most obnoxious Muggles alive. I thought we could've connected; formed a bond. Guess I was mistaken. The 'Weasley Curse' had already taken its affect on young Potter after sitting in the wretched train compartment with that Weasley for so long. Oh well, life moves on, right?
So, ever since then, I've had no one to confront with my troubles and sorrows. I feel like a prisoner in a war of nerves that is ever lasting. No one would care, no one would even listen; not even my own parents. So, really, I am alone in the world. Nothing ever seems to go the way I want it. I just want to come clean with all my fears and sorrows and, just be myself, in hopes that everyone would treat me like the Draco they know, instead of shunning me out into the cold and forgotten world.
Mother and father argue more than usual. It seems like ever since the end of fourth year started it all. Father is an ex-death eater, you see. He turned to the good side thinking You-Know-Who would never return and not wanting to be on the wrong side. Now, learning of the Dark Lords return, he's become more paranoid, more frantic than I've ever seen. He's moved us out into the middle of nowhere hoping he wouldn't be found. He's become more protective of himself and trying to be strong. I know he's terribly weak, though. You can see it in his life-less eyes.
My father is one of the most hardheaded, selfish, and unsympathetic guys you could ever meet (not including You-Know-Who). I can't remember a time he's ever cried nor gave sympathy to anyone in need of it. In fact, I remember dozens of times when I was just a young boy where he'd push me away. This one time in particular sticks out clear to me, for some reason.
I was only about four or so. I had barely begun learning about the dark world of magic and was so confused. Earlier that day, I accidentally walked in the middle of my father and some guy who were dueling and got hit with a spell. I soon learned that the curse was the Cruciatus Curse. No wonder it hurt like hell!
Anyway, I remember falling to the ground and laying still, fighting the pain, for a long while before the curse was lifted. Even afterwards I didn't feel like moving. The pain lingered afterwards and possibly hurt even worse. It was the most unpleasant experience I've ever gone through to date.
The first person that I saw walking up to me was the guy my father was dueling. He was the one who had hit me with the curse, by accident of course. He leaned down on his knees and placed his hand on my shoulder to turn me on my back (I was laying on my left side). He examined me, making sure I wasn't hurt in any other way, and asking if I was okay. I kept repeating, "Yes, I'm fine" the best I could. It was difficult for me, though, still going through the shock of the accident.
My father, on the other hand, waltzed over ten minutes later and just stood above me. He glared down, his wand pointed directly at my head, and grumbled words to himself. I felt ashamed that I had caused my father embarrassment, and wanted to die right then and there. Looking up at my father with his wand pointed at the space between my eyes, I knew he would be the one ending my life - my own father.
But, he didn't. No, he let me live, unfortunately. He dropped his wand hand to his side, but continued to glare. The other man was staring back up at him in disbelief. Like, he didn't understand what my father was doing. I have to say I was in the same boat as he.
"Get up weakling!" My father spat.
I tried getting up, but winced in pain and fell back to the ground. The man I didn't know placed his hand under my head so I wouldn't hit my head very hard on the ground and cause any more damage. My father didn't do anything to help me, nope, not one God forsaken thing. He just continued to glare and mumble. He did point his wand at my head again, threatening me. I became full of fear and didn't know what to do.
"If you can't get up, then you don't deserve a life, Draco. If I were to let you live, I would be cursing you. You wouldn't be able to last one day with me. Get up, or die!" He shouted.
"Lucius, he's only a kid. Let him be. I'm sorry for destroying you land, but I didn't mean any harm." The other man said, standing up and looking him straight in the eye.
I didn't hear anything else. I had gone deaf at my own will. I just continued to lie still on the cold, dusty ground and pretend to be invisible. But, the next thing I knew, the man I did not know came falling to the ground with a loud thud. I didn't know what had happened, but I knew he was dead. His life-less body lay still and cold in front of me. I shut my eyes so tightly that I began to see white shiny stars.
"Get in the house now, or sleep with the wild animals." My father grumbled at me before heading into the house.
I just stayed still. Tears began to trickle out of my eyes and falling onto the dirt ground below me. That was the first time ever crying. I haven't cried since. I don't want my father to think I'm a wimp or some loser Weasley. No, I wanted to show him that I was a strong Malfoy and wouldn't shame the Malfoy name. I have been trying to gain his trust since I was five; still hadn't succeeded.
Now, here we are on September 1st. I sit beneath the roof of the Hogwarts train that would be taking me to Hogwarts for my sixth year. Father has been missing for a few weeks now, and my mother is going insane and made me go alone. I seriously have forgotten the meaning of 'happiness' and try desperately to remember. I wouldn't care if my father never returned. I mean, of course I would be sad if he never did, but it is just pay back for all the cruel things he's done to my mother and myself. I bet he's probably in some cave in the middle of the country hiding from the Dark Lord. Good luck to him!
I am Draco Malfoy, and this is a story of one year of my life...