We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,--
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.
x0x
"Avada Kedavra!"
It has been three years since I have last heard those dreaded words spoken. But the staff can't know that.
Three whole years since the words had been used to take someone else I loved away from me. But the Death Eaters can't know that.
Three whole years since the words had ripped into my soul, destroying it until it was beyond recognition; in broken little bits. But the Staff can't know that.
How I loath those cold, cruel words…
They bring back a sting of unpleasant and unbidden memories; memories of my parents, memories of Lily, memories of everyone else who had been killed by those corrupt words.
I can't let them know how much of my soul has already died, how much is already shattered bits.
No, they can never know the pain I have hidden behind these emotional barriers, they can never know of the pain that is veiled behind countless years of training to show no emotion. They can't know of the terror and unforeseen agony hidden deep within my eyes.
They can't know the true agony and terror; they would never be able to handle the burden of the two words.
They would never be able to absorb the fact that two worlds, nay, four, currently battled for the remains of a broken soul:
The worlds of Good and Evil, and the worlds of Heaven and Hell both battled for the remains.
x0x
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
x0x
The world can't know what is really behind my mask, covering my emotions like the clouds that block out the sun. Blanketing my feelings in a thick sheet of supposed uncaring.
No, if they knew about my masks, they would label me as weak.
That cannot happen; I cannot be viewed as weak by anyone. I cannot let them hear my tortured cries, nor the anguish that runs through my veins at the mention of families, or friends, the ones I lost so long ago.
I am not weak, but it doesn't matter to them.
It has been three years since I last heard the terrible cry that chills my blood, turning it into ice.
Three years since he last killed, since he last took a victim.
They all think he is gone, but I know that they are wrong.
He will come back.
They always come back as long as there are still ones who fear them.
I have lost my fear for him. I have realized he is nothing more then a witless, cowardly, cold-blooded killer.
Not a murderer, not an executioner, a killer.
He shall have no respect for the crimes against us all that he has committed.
x0x
We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!
x0x
They don't know how grueling and difficult it is to put this cruel and malicious mask everyday.
They don't know how much effort goes into sustaining constant vigilance and stealth.
They don't know how terrifying the thought that at any given moment, your masks could slip, and you will be revealed as a weak coward.
No, I am not a coward by nature; I am not coward at all.
I keep these masks in place to stop from getting attached to the things that will soon be ripped from my grasp.
They think I am cold-hearted and malicious by nature, but it is hardly true.
I was not born like this; I was shaped by the events and evils that ruined and ruled my life.
I was shaped by the two words:
Avada Kedavra.
A/N:
Hope you liked! The lyrics aren't mine; they're from the song Mask, by Sadus. All the stuff I write is un-betaed, so, forgive me if it has a few errors! If anyone wants to be my beta, PLEASE contact me! I'm in terrible need of a beta!
