Disclaimer: i dont own any of the characters, i know its sad... they all belong to J.K. Rowling who has agreed to share them with me - isn't she nice!!!


A/N: this is my very first fanfic... please be nice... yea, hope u guys like it!


03 September 2004

I don't have a clue on what you would do when you see this letter. Maybe you will be curious enough to read it, or maybe you'll be disgusted to find that I'm a sentimentalist, and that I actually wrote a letter to you, pouring out my soul. I know that there's a big possibility that you won't ever read this letter, and I realise that I might just be wasting my time. But if there's even a remote possibility that you would read it, my efforts aren't wasted. And that is the only reason why I'm here, writing this letter near the calm lake, trying to forget my never-ending heartache and loss.

Oh, if only you knew the pressure I'm feeling; the expectations people have on me. I'm supposed to succeed in life, at school, in social life, in achieving my dreams and goals - or rather, what people think and want me to desire. Everyone's so focused on making me succeed, that they forget about what I desire, what I really want to do.

My steps falter, but instead of helping me get back on my feet, they just drag me, bruised and broken. I don't know if I can stand it much longer. The act I have to put on; everything, just for other people's sake; everything, to protect them from the disappointment because of my failures.

Sometimes, when I'm alone, I would think of what I really want to do, what I really desire; but then I realise, that I don't even know myself.

I've let people drag me deeper into their light – to my dark empty hole.

Now, when I turn around, all I see is never-ending eternal darkness, stretching everywhere. No place to turn, no place to hide, and all that's left to do is play pretend.

Sometimes, it amazes me how good I am at playing pretend. I could even fool myself into believing I'm real and alive, that I can feel and that I dream. All these lies come crashing down when I sit alone on my bed at night, isolated from the rest of the world in the darkness of my dormitory, surrounded by the heavy silence that I created. The tears would then run down my face. Tears of anguish and regret for letting myself be dragged through my life, for now, I don't have enough strength left to have the will to fight, to stand up.

I know that they all meant well, but all that they are actually doing is opening my own grave.

Tired, how exhausted I get, of, and from everything and everyone overwhelming me at the end of the day.

I want to go away; I need to go away very soon. I need to escape from my life which is my hell. I'll go somewhere they can't follow me and drag me back. A secret land that only I know of, where I don't have to pretend to be alive anymore, because there, in that place, I will be; I am.

A land of dreams with no expectations; no promises; no pretend; no hurt; no pain; no good or bad; no games.

Alive, free and happy, the way I possibly was at one point in my life. A time so long ago, a moment so short, that I can't remember clearly, but I truly believe and wish was there.

So here I am; an empty hollow shell, just waiting for a chance to go away, to escape this reality.

Now the ball is in your court. Do whatever you like. I really don't care anymore. I am too tired to care. You can go back to hating me, and rejoice, because I have given you the weapon that would hurt me the most. I have given you the secrets of my soul; of my very being.

I realise now what I really, truly desire. It is just you, and simply having you in my life. I also realise that its too much to hope for, so...

Draco, the choice is yours...

Harry