He has never felt as numb as he does now. Numb down to his very core, his heart. He cannot give explanations, his brain isn't working properly. His only though is failure. The words I am a failure go through his head again and again, but they do not touch him. He accepts them without understanding their true meaning, the real power of those words.
He doesn't feel, he is past that point now. He can only think of failure. He though that he could do it- but he is obviously wrong. He has failed. He though that he could live up to the expectations of those around him. The expectations of the other Death Eaters, the Dark Lord, him mother- he is certain that she never doubted him for a moment. He is her son, after all. Her life, pride and joy. He is her everything, especially with his father in Azkaban.
Pansy believed in him too. Pansy always believed in him. Pansy is his girlfriend- well, was. He might not be alive long enough to call her his girlfriend again. He is as good as dead. Is Pansy disappointed? Perhaps. But not so much disappointed as shocked. He has always given the impression If having control, being on the top of things- being ready. Pansy has never known him as a failure. He has never known himself as a failure. Until now. Until he failed to kill Dumbledore.
The thought strikes him like a slap across the face. He failed to kill Dumbledore. Snape had to do it for him. He though that he could do it- he was wrong. He thinks about Dumbledore, about Snape, about his life that will never be the same.
He can't torture the Golden Trio anymore- they have the upper hand now. He failed, he has no more chances. But Potter? Potter still has chance. Potter can still fulfill his destiny. It pains Draco to think of Potter being better. Potter has always been better. Potter has had better friendships, greater expectations for him and even- though this thought pained Draco more than anything- Quidditch. Draco, who has spent half of his life on a broom, lost game after game to Potter.
His life will never be the same. He will never be able to hold his head high again; he will never be able to smirk smugly, not now that he has failed. He will never be able to see Pansy's smile again. He will never again see the proud eyes of his father- Lucius has nothing to be proud of now.
All is lost. He has failed. He doesn't believe that there is a light at the end of this tunnel of numbness and despair. And because of that, he will never find the light.