The Similarities Between
Opposites
© Purple Polo aka God 7th
May 2001 Copy me and I'll kill
you. And I don't mean that theoretically,
either. So don't you be doing anything
stupid now.
I don't think that anyone has actually ever known the real
me. Not the one which lurks under the
guise that people see; but the real me.
And in a strange, obscure way, I like it like that. I am mysterious, I am the odd one out; no-one
quite understands me and no-one ever will, and although I wanted them to at
first, that feeling wore away. I am who
I am, and people accept that. They can't
change me. They never will.
But I always knew that I was
different; since I was a child, since my parents died – or should I say, were
killed. That was when I knew it. That I would reach great things. And I did.
Without me, the world would have
been a different place. A totally
different place. Nothing would be the
same. It would have changed, but
changed for the better? Changed for the
worse? It all depends on who you're
asking. Ask me, and I'd say . . . well,
you know. Of course you know. I had the opportunity to change the world of
wizards, and I took it. Without
entirely realising what I was doing.
Oh, I'm not a particularly good
wizard. My intelligence is above
average, but quite honestly nothing outstanding. A good student – but not the best. Not a lot in the looks department, and my strength isn't up to
much . . . but I have determination.
Determination. That is what
marks me apart from the rest. Without
determination, you will get nowhere.
Nothing. Nobody. You can be the smallest wizard from the
midst of nowhere, but with determination you can be the best.
And I had to have
determination. I mean, look at what I've
been through! Look at the people who I
have lived with – relied on. I don't
like relying on people. You lack
independence, and a sense of being.
Now, I feel like a real person.
And those people didn't do it out of the kindness of their hearts,
either; they did it because they expected something. They wanted something.
They were convinced that, when they had played their part, they would receive
a reward. Of what kind exactly, I have
no idea. But maybe they will get
it. Maybe they won't. In the future. But first we must worry about the present.
And now, in the present, I am no
longer the one who relies on other people.
The wheel of fortune has swung around, and now other people rely on me,
for a change. I have followers, a group
of – fans? I don't really know what to
call them. People who admire me, adore
me, even worship me. Some swear they would
die for me, and most wish they were me.
But they are not the ones I would call for in my hour of need.
And I've had my fair share of
hours of need. All with him. Him.
He has been there for so long now, I can hardly remember life without
thinking – is he there? Must I always
mould my life around what he may do to me next? I know there are many who wish that he had killed me that time;
and many who are glad that he didn't.
But in some strange way, I'm not sure that I ever could. We're a lot closer than he – or I – care to
think. There is a little bit of him in
me, and a little bit of me in him. We
have a connection. We have a bond. Not necessarily a good one – but it is
there. And I often think – could I
survive without him? Because we have
thwarted each other before, but never killed.
Perhaps we couldn't. Perhaps –
we didn't want to.
But we are similar, he and
I. And however much I choose to deny
it, that similarity will always be there; in looks, in mannerisms, in
character. Yes, character. Although one is from the "good" side and one
is from the "bad", we are not opposites.
I have watched him. And he has
watched me. And we both know it.
One day soon, we will meet
again. One day soon, we will fight, and
one of us will emerge victorious. To be
honest, I know that it could go either way.
I don't know who will win – who will lose. If I really wanted to, I could stop it. I could avoid the confrontation; I could even stop it
happening. There are ways. But even if I could, I don't know that I
would. It has to happen someday, so it
might as well be soon. How will it
happen? When? Where? Why? The answer to these questions lies with
neither of us, but I don't care. It
seems I have waited all my life for the final battle, and so why should I
worry? It will happen as intended. And I intend to win.
I would like to win.
But then, so would he.
And the ending is entirely a
mystery. Unsolved, and unquestionable.
What will happen, will happen. I may lose, and then my whole life will have
been in vain –
But of course, so could he. He could lose. I could win.
And then I, Voldemort, will rise
once more.
^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V
Ok, guys, my faithful
loyal fanfic readers, tell me what you think.
Did you get the twist?
Pleeeeease tell me that you worked out that it was meant to sound like
Harry and then turn out to be You-Know-Who, because that was the whole point
and then I read it through and kind of wasn't entirely sure that I had made my
point clear . . . oh, I really hope that some of you got it, and didn't think "oh,
that'll be old Voldy then, yabbering on about his deprived childhood" as soon
as you read the first paragraph. I'll
feel like such a failure. No, seriously
though, tell me if you guessed at the beginning / have absolutely no idea what
I'm talking about / both understand what I'm talking about and got the twist
(yippee!) and I will be mighty grateful!
Constructive criticism is always nice – but kind remarks such as "Polo,
you are incredibly clever and funny and witty and outstandingly beautiful (I
can just tell), and please carry on writing before I self combust from lack of
your fanfics" are even better, and then I will love you forever! Mwah!
Love Purple Polo aka
God xxxxx
