A/N: Amazing what insomnia will do for your writer's block.... The long awaited Snape chapter! On anyways.... ::cough cough:: And I just noticed that this is chapter 13.... spooky.... ::Roswell music plays in background::

WARNING: This chapter is rater R. As in, I just upped the rating of this story, cuz well, there's some kinda gross stuff in this chapter. Anyways, if you get into trouble for reading this, ::points at warning:: I warned you.

Disclaimer: If Snape was mine, I wouldn't fuck him up as much as I have in this chapter. I would just only fuck him up as much as JKR has done :-D Just kidding. The point is, I'm not JKR, etc etc, Harry Potter not mine, Severus Snape will never be mine, etc etc....

Perfect

I can't take it anymore.

The screams, hopeless in the night, eyes filled with terror, and I'm the one torturing them, screaming crucio again and again and again-

-they lose their minds from it, I can hear the wails as they lose the final battle in keeping their mind intact. I see the horror in their eyes again ad again, widening as they witness the depravity-

-mothers, fathers, sons, daughters- all gone, with a flick of a wand, -aunts, uncles, nephews, nieces- taken into the dark, but not before they scream a final curse into the night-grandparents, grandchildren, babies, innocent children-

There's always one left for last, so there's always at least one soul broken, eyes dulling as their spirit cracks under the strain. They lose their mind from just one night-! But I see this counless times, I see it again and again-

-and I can't sleepIcan'trestIwon'tIcan'tdreamIwon'tletmeIcan'ttakethemanymore-

I tell myself that I have to do this. If I don't, so many more will die, so many more tortured that I'll have to watch and I can't bear it but I have to and-

And the only excuse that I have is that I have to do this. But that mantra is empty, and I know it. I can't help it. I know that saying "I have to" means nothing.

Because as much as I hate it, I love it. I feel the darkness sweep through me when I see their eyes break. Later, I'll try to tell myself it didn't happen, it couldn't have. But for that one second when I surrender to evil, all I want is to stay there in the night like the sky, listening to the screams like the call of angels, marveling at the debauchery as if it were the Mona Lisa.

But then I pull back, and guilt floods through me. Why do I do this why torture myself why can't I resist because I'mnotgoodenoughI'mterribleI'mevilI'mnotsupposedtobe-

I obsess over this. Why can't I be what I want to be? I don't want to feel dirty anymore, I don't want to feel tainted never to be clean never again, never ever neverever-

I know I can't be perfect; I wouldn't be human if I was. But I don't care because I don't want to be weak and hate myself for it. But I do and I don't know why and I'm crying out for an answer-

-that never came, never will. I'm acting like a spoiled brat, never listening to answers, just like what I teach all day long. Just something else that's wrong with me. Listening to me, asking why I can't be perfect even though in the same breath saying that I wouldn't be human if I was.

Now I don't even want to be human. Between humanity and perfection, I want to be perfect. I don't want to care, I don't want to wake myself screaming from nightmares I don't remember, can't remember.

I just want it to stop. The torture, the curses. The pain, the guilt. I don't want to care, I don't want to feel. I want to run away, run, keep running, never stop runningrunningfromthisthislifethiseverything-

-But I can't. I can't do anything.

I can't even kill myself.

I tell myself that I don't do it because Albus needs me for his Crusade, that I can't kill myself yet, because then that many more lives would weight on my conscious.

And I know it's BS because so many souls already suffocate mine, and I don't even hear anything, if anything, Voldemort knows and uses me because he knows. And he knows that I know that he knows that i know and on and on andonandonuntilIcan'ttakeitanymore-

I just can't kill myself. I've looked over the edge of the Astronomy Tower, I've opened that vial of Draught and put it to my lips, I've pointed my wand starting to say the fatal words Avada Kedavr-

-and I never finish. I start shaking, and I have to step down. My hand convulses and instead of a vial of Draught, there are only shards of glass. My throat closes, and I can't speak, can't breath, can't think and I have to put the wand down.

I can't even kill myself.

It just fits so well! I'm about to break from breaking so many people, I'm idiotic and stubborn beyond stupidity, and I can't even summon enough courage to kill myself.

And I have to accept it, take it, live wtih it, or else I hate msyelf.

It's just so fitting, so righteous, so, so-

Perfect.

A/N: Aaaaaand the reason behind the name of this series is finally revealed without me even knowing it! Aaaaaaaand PLEASE REVIEW! It will take you almost nothing but mean the world to me.