All my life I have been told to block out my emotions. Crying was weak; Pity causes you to hesitate; Emotions were a hindrance; friendships and relationships made you weak. Everything was a weakness to my father; it was what I was raised on. To never be weak.
He acted like he was the victim when my mother died but these tortured eyes see right through him now. Yet he still keeps me captive, making me feel like I deserve him. But I hate him!
Because of him I try my hardest to forget everything. Because of him I can't let anyone else in. Because of him I find it hard to trust everybody else around me. But I will not make the same mistakes he did.
No more will I kill and harm others because he orders me to. No more will I bottle my emotions. As my father fell to the ground with Harry Potter after jumping from a roof I stood over him, my wand just millimetres from his head. "Oriana?" He asked in an almost feeble way. It almost made me smile to see him embodying the weakness he so hated.
"No more." I said in my voice laced with pain. The curse was quick to follow and Lord Voldemort fell with a mundane finality.
Harry staggered to his feet and stumbled over to her. I stared at him as I slowly lifted my wand to my own head. I stared at the boy I had loved for nearly six years as realisation crossed his face. "'Ana no!" He yelled.
But it was too late; the killing curse slipped from my tongue for the last time. My body slumped forward and landed next to my father's lifeless one. All lives end... All hearts get broken.