Hey all this is the second in my four part series, they're not very long but email me and tell me what you think sailorslytherin@hotmail.com
Gulping down the glass of water he lay back on his bed, reflecting on his 15 years of existence.
'What was I out here for?' he asked himself.
He took another sip of the icy cold water. The pills had started to take an effect. He thought back a few weeks. His girlfriend dumped him, he lost his best friends, and his father had fled the country. How he longed to be back at school, surrounded by the happy people, the people who he could pretend to be like.
He thought back to his childhood. He remembered being teased by the bullies at primary school (A/N: that's around 6 to 7 years old); he remembered watching his father beat his mother, almost to death. And he remembered watching Voldemort destroy his home…his memories.
He remembered her.
Her laugh, her smile…gone. She left him. For who? No one, he forced her to leave.
'I'm a monster,' he thought bitterly.
He thought back to his two ex-best friends, "traitors," he muttered. They turned on him. They betrayed him.
All he ever wanted was to fit in, no matter how many lives he destroyed of pain he caused. He wanted to be loved. And you no, maybe he could've, 'but it's too late now,' he cursed himself.
Pulling the blanket over his aching, shivering body his thoughts drifted to the pills. He'd taken the whole bottle, 'raspberry,' he thought, licking his damp lips. He realised how funny he was feeling. The room was spinning. He held his hand out in front of his face, it blurred. He shook his head and tried to get up and walk to the door. He stumbled and fell, hitting the cold, stone floor of his room. He lay there for a while, willing himself to breathe just a little longer.
'Maybe I made a mistake,' he thought.
He felt the sleepiness wash over his body. His cheek pressed against the freezing floor. He began to heave and felt the vomit flood out of his mouth. Struggling to breath he forced himself to roll over onto his back. Gasping for air his eyes went fuzzy. His chest tightened and his eyes glazed over. He took his last breath.
The door clicked open and the man picked up the lifeless body. Laying him gently down on the bed a single tear fell from his eye and onto the body, "my son," the man bitterly wept, "Draco…"