Diclaimer: I don't own anything you may recognise...i only wish I did

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Broken Soul

My arm is outstretched, my wand held firmly in my hand. My father yells at me just to do it, to get it over with. But I cannot do it, I cannot murder an innocent man. I stare at the empty husk that used to be my father and I wonder what happeend to the man who used to bathe me and read me bedtime stories. But this is no time to get nostalgic. There is a war blazing on around us. Smoke is rising, thick and noxious and the fire is spreading through the fallen heroes. My father screeches "Just do it, you imbecile" I stare down at the man in front of me. He is begging me, pleading with me. But he is not pleading for his life.

He is pleading for me to kill him, to put him out of his misery. All around us, men and women, sons and daughters fall to their deaths. They are fighting for peace and I can no longer see the point in what I am doing. Its then that I realize, what I am doing is wrong, so very wrong. I am killing innocent people for the benefit of the dark arts and there is no way that I can continue doing this. My father may kill me but I will not be toyed with any longer. This is my life and I cannot spend it aadmist rubble, smoke and the bodies of those who died for the greater good. Its time to make my choice.

I lower my wand and whisper "No" in a deadly quiet voice. My father is momentarily stunned, I have caught him off-guard. He stares at me angrily and I stare back at him, my eyes never leaving his ice-blue eyes. We stare at each other, neither daring to break the eye contact, as men and women alike fall all around us, dying for their cause. I will not break the eye contact, I absolutely refuse to let him win, as insignificant as it may seem. And, finally, my father looks away, looking throughly ashamed of himself. I am satisified. In his eyes, I can so plainly see the broken soul my father used to be.

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Please Read and Review

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