He was only 15, but it had all started the day that he was born. As soon as he was old enough to understand why, Draco Malfoy had wanted to please his father. Nothing that he did ever seemed good enough for Lucius Malfoy, nothing. Lucius was not the type to hit his son, not without good reason at least.
"Screaming,
Deceiving,
And Bleeding for you,
And you still won't hear me!"
That was when the cutting started, the first time Lucius ever struck Draco. He was 13 and had just pulled some stupid stunt, trying to spite Potter and the Weasel. He was an 'Embarrassment' Lucius had said. Who would want to call and 'Embarrassment' their son?
At first, it was a cry for help. Maybe somebody would notice they would apologize for wronging him and everybody would be happy. But by the end of the summer, it became an obsession. The feel of the blade in his fingers, the sting as it cut into his skin, the cold, damp feeling that escaped his mouth in a whimper. The knowledge that he had the power to end his own life that he was in control was almost a mental high for him.
"Don't want your hand this time,
I'll save myself…"Then there was his mother. Draco was not stupid. He knew why his father kept her around. Narcissa was beautiful, naïve, and quiet. Draco had seen her cry once, and it was on accident. It was late one night, one of the many times when Lucius never came home. Other than that, she never showed a hint of emotion towards her son. When Lucius would leave the house, she would almost try to help him, ask if he would be all right, but the minute her husband returned, she would leave the room. She would never stand up to Lucius, who would?
The thoughts of suicide kept coming. It tormented him, but at the same time he was obsessed with it. The blood, it was the truth, how he felt. He never cried, Malfoy's never cry. The Blood was his Tears.
"Drowning with you,
I'm falling forever…"No matter how long it went on, regardless the scars, he wanted nothing more out of his life than to please his father, to please everybody.
"I've got to break through!
I won't be broken again
I've got to breathe…"
He knew it was wrong, why did he want to please his father? His father survived on lies, thrived on the pain and suffering of those 'lower' than him. But Draco knew he had to live up to his father, everybody expected it of him, and who was he to let everybody down? He knew what he was meant to do, and he knew he would never be free of it.
"I'm Going Under!""While I'm down," Draco thought to himself, sitting in the darkness of his room. "might as well hit the bottom." Fingering the blade, he could already feel the cold, sharpness of the metal, already taste the flood and feel the cold regret fall to the floor after the blade…