The blood seeped through the towel which was lightly held to draco malfoys slit wrist. He had been repeating that habit far too many times, so much that the familiar sensation of the knife slicing through his pale skin had become almost routine, almost pleasure. He never had died from his attempts as he had secretly hoped, but the pain brought to him an almost comforting pleasure which with every fiber of his being he had often yearned for, seeking far from what he had received from his loveless family, and pain seemed the only option to turn to.
A knock upon his door stirred him from his musings. He quickly proceeded to wrap the towel tightly around the knife, which was dripping with the crimson, distasteful blood of his own.
At that moment his father pushed the door open, revealing what his truthful eyes did not want to see. "Draco." He gasped, barely a whisper, had the room not been deadly silent his words would have disappeared. His voice hushed he repeated "Draco… Tell me that blood is fake." Draco clearly wasn't as shocked as his father. He stared into the awekward silence for a few seconds, before saying "Father, the blood is fake."
His father had obviously forgotten what he had come to speak with Draco about, and watching the retreat of his back, Draco couldn't really say he really cared. "he doesn't fucking love me." He uttered those five words under his breath with the most distaste and venom in his voice that he could muster, few seconds of silence passed before his eyes opened wide in shock and he screamed "NOBODY FUCKING LOVES ME! NOT EVEN MY OWN FUCKING FAMILY," he spat then speaking in a more quiet voice "He wouldn't even notice if I was fucking dead, he's so caught up in his own little world… in his job… I HATE HIM!!!!" He screamed more loudly, his shreik reverberating off the marble walls of his room, the bitter venom in his voice only more poisoned by his words. He turned towards his mirror, breathing shakily as he looked into his reflection, into his very own face riddled with fear and hatred as he put his fist right through the mirror, shards of glass fell upon him, some stuck out of his knuckles where his fist had collided with the, once untouched, mirror. But his inner scars were searing with far too much pain to care about the physical ones lined on his pale cream skin.
In the dining hall, his father was seated in one of the softest red plush thrones, awaiting his sons arrival before beginning to devour the meal before him. Draco and Lucius each swallowed their food slowly, in awekward silence. Until Lucius spoke, his voice barely a whisper, yet each word shattering Draco's mind like a thousand shards of glass. "I know what you've been doing Draco." He accused. Draco stared at the way the tendrils of smoke from his Fathers meal were slowly curving around the anguished features of his face, giving him the appearance of an old powerful wizard. Draco spun and faced the door, eagerly eyeing it as if willing to run out. But he did not run. "Do you?" He stated more than asked.
Before his father responded he straightened his bent legs, pushing the chair backwards with a loud screech, and walked out of the room slowly. As soon as he emmerged into the hallway, he broke into a run, each footstep echoing a thousand times louder than it would have in a normal house.
Upon reaching his room, he flung open the door and walking past the broken mirror, he found the item he had seeked, an old battered suitcase was leaning against the side of his closet, lifting the object, he quickly discarded it onto an empty bed. He set about his task quickly, rummaging through drawers and tossing the necessary clothes into the case. He heaved the kitchen knife out of its hiding place and immediatley slashed a cut in the side of his mattress, gingerly feeling around inside the mattress he found his victim, he pulled out a wad of muggle cash and a heap of gold wizarding coins, he would need those.
Zipping up his suitcase, he lugged the load down the stairs, upon reaching the landing he gasped. "Uh-oh." He spoke, feeling totally lame at having said it. From the bottom of the stairs his mother had an unusual glint in her eyes. "uh-oh is right!" she smiled. "where do you think you're going young man?" She said. Draco just stood there staring at her, mouth open and gaping like a fish. "Away." He finally replied, blushing. "I'm not stopping you." She acknowledged steadily. "Good!" Shouted draco, the venom in his voice causing the bile to rise in the back of his throat. Before he changed his mind, he forced his way past his mother, causing her to stumble. Behind him he called "Goodbye Narcissa." Calling his beloved mother by only her first name so as not to have second thoughts about how much he loved what he was destined to leave behind. Behind his retreating back his mother had cried a tear which her son would never realise she had shed as he disappeared out the door.
A/N- sorry this is so short, i have to make the next one longer I was just under a heap of stress and didnt have much time to write this, if you like it PLEASE review, coz if you dont, who will? the reveiw fairy? pfft, and i thought i didnt beleive in the tooth fairy, okay that doesnt make sense but oh well. Feedback is cat chow, please feed teh kitty nn