THE ERROR IN MY MIND AND SOUL
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
If you have found this letter, then you know I killed myself. But you don't know why.
Ever since I was old enough to hold a wand, my father has been training me ruthlessly. He wants me to be something I can't be, that no one can be: Perfect. I would tell myself that he really did love me, and it was for my own good the long nights he spent torturing me. I would tell myself that it was my fault I wasn't perfect. I see now that it wasn't.
My father and mother would fight constantly, and my father would always put the Cruciatus curse on my mother. Almost always. Other times he just beat me in front of her, or attacked her with his bare hands. To think I used to look up to my father makes me sick. I always thought he was so brave, and so wonderful. Now I see he was just a weak coward.
My father also used to make me do things that I...I didn't want to do. He made me watch when he tortured people. He made me torture people. He made me torture myself, without even knowing it. Or perhaps not caring. He forced a destiny upon me, one that I hate: the Dark Lord's successor. I used to think it was a great honor. Now I see, so many years later, that I was wrong, and it was wrong. My whole life was wrong. I was named 'Draco' for a reason. It means Dragon in Latin. My father tried to make me become a Dragon Animagus at age 11. Age bloody eleven.
I could say that I started out peaches and crème, and my father just corrupted me, and I'm just misunderstood. I guess it's partly true. My father did corrupt me. I don't like torturing people like he does. I don't hate muggles like he does. But if I really were peaches and crème, then I would have stopped this so much sooner. It was far to late when I finally did. Last night I killed my father, revenge for so many years of dilapidating
It's my fault that Ron Weasley is dead. I didn't hate him. I didn't hate Potter or Granger for that matter. Oh fuck it, Harry and Hermione. See now, dad? Wish you could. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, not Potty, Weasel, and Mudblood. Ron was a better man then I could ever be, so loyal to his friends. Hermione was a better student than I could ever be, so smart and confident. And Harry, I'm glad he defeated the Dark Lord. I'm glad that he and Hermione can live in peace together. Harry was a better everything than I could ever be. Quidditch, school, witticisms, anything. And I'm actually glad for him.
I see now killing Ron was wrong. I see now cowering under my father was wrong. I see now the error that's in my mind and soul.
Draco Malfoy
Draco smiled to himself as the cold steel slashed his wrist. His last thought was one of brief intensity. 'See now, father. You drove me to this. And I'm even doing it the muggle way'. After that final thought, the world slipped into black, and Draco Malfoy died with a smile on his face.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
If you have found this letter, then you know I killed myself. But you don't know why.
Ever since I was old enough to hold a wand, my father has been training me ruthlessly. He wants me to be something I can't be, that no one can be: Perfect. I would tell myself that he really did love me, and it was for my own good the long nights he spent torturing me. I would tell myself that it was my fault I wasn't perfect. I see now that it wasn't.
My father and mother would fight constantly, and my father would always put the Cruciatus curse on my mother. Almost always. Other times he just beat me in front of her, or attacked her with his bare hands. To think I used to look up to my father makes me sick. I always thought he was so brave, and so wonderful. Now I see he was just a weak coward.
My father also used to make me do things that I...I didn't want to do. He made me watch when he tortured people. He made me torture people. He made me torture myself, without even knowing it. Or perhaps not caring. He forced a destiny upon me, one that I hate: the Dark Lord's successor. I used to think it was a great honor. Now I see, so many years later, that I was wrong, and it was wrong. My whole life was wrong. I was named 'Draco' for a reason. It means Dragon in Latin. My father tried to make me become a Dragon Animagus at age 11. Age bloody eleven.
I could say that I started out peaches and crème, and my father just corrupted me, and I'm just misunderstood. I guess it's partly true. My father did corrupt me. I don't like torturing people like he does. I don't hate muggles like he does. But if I really were peaches and crème, then I would have stopped this so much sooner. It was far to late when I finally did. Last night I killed my father, revenge for so many years of dilapidating
It's my fault that Ron Weasley is dead. I didn't hate him. I didn't hate Potter or Granger for that matter. Oh fuck it, Harry and Hermione. See now, dad? Wish you could. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, not Potty, Weasel, and Mudblood. Ron was a better man then I could ever be, so loyal to his friends. Hermione was a better student than I could ever be, so smart and confident. And Harry, I'm glad he defeated the Dark Lord. I'm glad that he and Hermione can live in peace together. Harry was a better everything than I could ever be. Quidditch, school, witticisms, anything. And I'm actually glad for him.
I see now killing Ron was wrong. I see now cowering under my father was wrong. I see now the error that's in my mind and soul.
Draco Malfoy
Draco smiled to himself as the cold steel slashed his wrist. His last thought was one of brief intensity. 'See now, father. You drove me to this. And I'm even doing it the muggle way'. After that final thought, the world slipped into black, and Draco Malfoy died with a smile on his face.