Hey people! What's up? I've got some inspiration, and this came out. Hope you'll like it. It's kind of a depressing piece yet with a bit of humor. Just a bit. So, I don't know what else to say. I'm really tired right now. Well, Enjoy!(=

To End It All With A Flicker Of A Wand

By

Yuval25

I hate them all. They don't understand. I need this. It helps me relax, it heals me. Stupid Potter thinks he knows everything. Stupid Potter, and stupid Granger, and stupid Weasley, and stupid Dumbledore, all living their stupid perfect life in their perfect homes with their perfect families. Stupid knife! Work already, damn it!

Potter told me he can help me. What a joke. I don't need his help. I don't need anybody's help. I'm fine. I'm bloody alright. Maybe this choice of words was not the best… If Potter thinks I'm going to believe him, be his follower, then he's damn wrong. I'm nobody's wimp. I have been trusted with a level A mission. Ha! Potter would have failed this on the first week of school, I bet!

Shit. This knife is getting on my nerves.

Maybe I went too far this time… It's so red… It ruins my clothes. Who cares? It helps me. No one will take what I need away from me. It's nobody else's business. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I'm not a child. Not like the imbecile Potter.

Just one more cut. Then I'll stop. For today. I'm not making any promises about tomorrow.

Jeez, what are they so angry about? It's not like I poured the blood over their beds. Only mine.

Don't touch me! Stay away! This knife is my property! They can't take it, I'll sue them! Father will sue them for sure!

They finally left. Fucking finally. It's about time. What makes it their business what I do? I've put anti-scent charms on this part of the room, so that shouldn't bother them. What do they know, anyway? I bet they're too scared to do something like this. What a bunch of pansies.

Mother would be furious if she found out. If she found out. Which she won't, ever!

Really, I don't know why they're making such a big deal out of this. It's not like I'm committing suicide or anything. It's just a few cuts, nothing major. There are worse things, like self-Cruciatus-ing. And yes, people did that. They were crazy people, but they did that nonetheless.

I wish I could just die. No mission to kill Dumbledore, no Dark Lord, no obsessive father, no overprotective mother, and most of all, no Potter. A perfect world… How I wish. But I can't, because then Voldemort would kill my family. I can't let them die because of me. No, they are too precious for that. And then I would die. Who would protect me if not them?

Should I do it? Should I end it all? Maybe I should. After all, nobody likes me here. They are only afraid, afraid of the power I have. They say the Killing curse isn't painful, but then again, who the hell are they? Potter? Ugh! It's not like anybody else survived to fucking tell the tale.

That's it. I'm doing it. Where the hell is my wand?

I'm sure I put it here…

Oh, here it is.

How should I do it? Should I just say the incantation and that's it? Should I do something dramatic like put a flower in my hand? Should I put some candles around me? Shit, that sounds like a pretty horrible romance novel. And I would know. Mother used to read those a year ago. Now she's more into yoga and stuff.

I need to find some better clothes. A Malfoy can't die in those petty school uniforms, after all. A suit, maybe. Or even better, the expensive buttoned shirt and black Dragon-Hide slacks Mother bought me as a home-coming gift last summer.

That would do.

Now, the words. Only two. It shouldn't be that complicated, right?

What were they again? Shit. Why can't I remember?

It was… Avada Kedavra, right.

The wand, to the throat or the stomach? The heart.

Maybe I should have written a note? But the blood would stain it and then… no, no note then. All of those stupid brats should have no recognition from me. After all, they have it all and they even dare to complain.

I have nothing. I used to have it all. A perfect family… When Father wasn't drunk and humiliated, and wasn't in Azkaban. When Mother wasn't so sad all of the time. When she didn't cry over everything, and didn't shake with fear every time the Dark Lord was mentioned.

I used to have it.

Now I don't.

I hate this life.

"Avada Kedavra."