The Maze of Life This is a weird thing that popped into my head. Warning: this story is NOT literal. Enjoy, and try to read this without getting confused (if you do, go to the bottom). ^^;;;;;;;;;;

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Life has a meaning. Life is there to bring happiness to one. Instead, it has showed me cruelty, more cruelty than I can speak of. My life is a like a maze...an impossible labyrinth of twists, turns, and downs. But no matter how hard I try to find it, there are never any ups.

Sometimes I am forced to choose a path. I wish that I could just huddle up in a corner forever, but an invisible hand would push me, push me to take the paths I am afraid of. Dark shadows pull my eyelids closed so I couldn't see. I feel my way, stumbling, tripping over my feet. I would fall and tasting the blood from my bitten lip, look up and see things locked in the chest of my most innermost fears. They would scar me again, and rip open the healed wounds they inflicted on me before. Nobody would be there to hear my pleas for agony. Nobody knows about this maze I live in.

Sometimes, there are pools of water I have to cross. Deep, dark, dreaded pools of water, stretching for miles. I stick my toe in, shivering; the water was below freezing. A single ripple rolls out as my feet goes in. I try to back away, back away to safety, but nonetheless, the invisible hand grabs my ear and pulls me in. Screaming as the coldness ran through my veins, I splash, trying to save myself. This, of course, always makes it worse. The murky water would enter my lungs and freeze them. This got so bad, I almost died a few times. But I always lived, just by a hair. Life, ah, how much more cruel can it be? It enjoys to see one suffer, as it does me; and so the game continues.

There is a castle in this maze. A castle, a big, bright castle was rumored to be in the center. A place where there are no worries, no fear, no thoughts of death...how I yearned to reach this heaven. It is heard that angelic spirits play soothing music up in the towers...the rooms are filled with delightful children and toys, of everything one would dream of. It is on top of a cloud...a magical cloud in the air. One would have to climb a rope in order to get there. It would take many years to reach the top...the rope would burn your hands, scar them; but isn't it worth it to sacrifice a hand for an escape of a bitter life?

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I am planning to live for eternity. Yet, is it worth living when my life is nothing? I was born an orphan, and raised in an orphanage until I was eleven. Eleven years of being taunted, living a nightmare. Then one day, I saw light at the end of the tunnel. A door, a chance! I sprinted for it, and took everything with me.

Opening the door, I discovered the wonderful world of magic. Along with it came Hogwarts, my beloved school I had attended for seven years. There I thrived, I learned...the maze was more bearable there. Yes, I was still pushed and pulled throughout the maze, but the lock on my chest of fears increased in strength. I learned to swim, and my lungs became stronger. I learned to survive in the maze.

During Hogwarts, I looked all over for the castle. In my first, second, and third years, I wondered around, with no hope in my heart. But as I grew older and more experienced, I picked up more and more clues leading to the castle. I never found it, yet, I knew I was close.

After I left school, the clues became stronger and easier to follow. The maze, once dark, was growing dimmer by the day. The pools of water were diminishing, in temperature and size. Life became better, still bitter, but it has improved.

The castle was discovered a few years later. Oh, how beautiful it was! Shining in the sky, so serene...I just wanted to stare at it for ever and ever. But I knew what I had to do. Taking a deep breathe, I took the rope in my hands, and grasping it firmly, started to climb. At first, my enthusiasm and excitement drove me to go as fast as possible.

As the months of climbing passed, I grew more and more tired. But I could not stop. Below, I could hear people yelling my name, telling me to come back...that I would have no chance...that I was making a mistake. Why would I listen to them? They know nothing about my tragic life and how had I worked for it to improve...and they want me to give up now? Never!

Higher and higher I climbed...years passed swiftly as they came. As I rose further up, killer birds came to stop me from going any higher. I took this as another challenge, like the ones I have encountered when I was a boy. This obstacle was so easy to pass! Of course, they were much harder than the ones I've had before...but I'm not a boy anymore. Easily I beat them, but more came. Where do they come from? Why are they trying to stop me?

I got the best of them all. As time went on, tougher ones were sent to me to defeat. I killed them all, though many took the breath out of me. I barely survived them...I was so weary I wanted to climb down and rest, but I knew I couldn't. I would be throwing away my dream! And so, I climbed, I conquered...it became a daily schedule for me. Never once did I stop, not once...I was so close.

Years came and went. And I still climbed, though not as fast as before. The excitement has worn off...I just wanted this over with. There was no entertainment up in the sky, and I began killing birds for the fun of it. It didn't really serve a purpose except to show off my power...I do not know why or how, but it made me feel safer and stronger within myself. So the slaughter continued on my journey to the castle...hundreds of birds I brought an end to. They began to stop attacking me, but I still murdered them with unrepentance. I did not realize this at first, but my heart beat less and less with every bird dead.

One night, as I climbed, I felt something touch my fingertips. It was sweet and warm, bearing a resemblance to cotton candy. I have reached the cloud! I was almost at the castle! I wanted to dance, to celebrate...to kill.

"To kill?" my heart whispered.

"Yes! Yes! It is your nature to kill...you enjoy it," my brain said.

"He has killed enough!" my heart cried.

"Kill...kill...kill..."

It is the most torturous feeling when one's heart argues with the brain. This is what was happening now...I wanted to let go of the rope, to die...my head was pleading for a compromise...

"KILL!"

I couldn't stand it anymore! I needed to kill! Eyeing two birds and their baby...yes, I did it...the heart was not important to me anymore. It was hardly beating.

I killed the parent birds first. The male one tried to withstand; but he failed just like the rest. The mother bird I murdered easily...she was a piece of cake. In her arms, the baby of the family fluttered its wings, chirping for its mother to awaken. With no last regrets, I started to kill...

But the baby bird...it flew out of its mother's arms, and started to fly in circles around my head. It lowered itself, until it was level to my face and gently, the bird pecked me on my forehead. Before I had a chance to react, it flew away and disappeared into the clouds.

Pain started to spread like wildfire in my body after a few seconds. My whole body ached like I swallowed poison...the rope burnt through my hands as if it was made out of acid...nobody was there to help me...nobody...

My grip loosened on the hold of the rope, and I slid, ever so little, down...

"No," my voice came out, barely a whisper.

My dream evaporated before my eyes as the image of the castle faded away, leaving me in space...falling...

"NO!"

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Once again, I am standing in the heart of the maze, looking up with determination at the castle.

"I promise, on this day, that I, Lord Voldemort, will reach the castle someday. No matter what."

My hands grazed the rope once more as I started to climb.

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A/N: You must be thinking, "Um..." I understand...that's what I was thinking when I wrote what I had written. ^_^ Anyway, to clear up some confusion:

the castle: the dream Voldemort has to become the greatest and most powerful wizard in the world.
the rope: what Voldemort did in order achieve his goal.
killer birds: aurors trying to stop him.
parent & baby bird: the Potters.
falling off the rope: when Voldemort's curse was shot upon himself and he 'died'.
climbing the rope again: Voldemort is trying to rise once more.