Being back in his prescence is my dream, and my nightmare, and my insanity; it is my pain, and my pleasure, and my want, and my fear; it is everything, and I can't escape it. He rescued me. The Dark Lord rescued me, and brought me back, and now I am home. As home as I will ever be- because it's wherever he is.

He gave me a bed to rest in, and he gave me soft food, real food, for the first time in years. I am living again. I am free. With him. My mind can barely wrap itself around the fact that I don't have to suffer anymore-

Oh, but I do, and I know it, and I love it, and I want it.

His wand is the one that administers the pain. His voice is what lets me live in shadows, lets me dwell in the prison of my own mind, of my own agony- it is him, him, it's always him- it's him that allows me to serve him, despite everything...

It's always him.

I don't mind the torture, or the pain. I scream for him, when his cool voice speaks the cold Crucio that leaves me writhing. I scream so that he will know I am loyal- because I am not afraid of him, I am not. I am in love with him. And for that, I will do anything.

Some laugh at me. I hear them; they don't think I hear them... but I do, and I ignore them, just as readily as they ignore me. They call me chained. Insane. They say I can barely think anymore, that I don't know who I am except to kill and murder and torture and-

But they are wrong, so wrong, because I recognize him when he's in front of me. I can feel his power. I understand his voice. He kills me and he lets me live, and he hurts me and heals me. How is it that this never-ending cycle can feel so right?

Maybe I'm not alive. I already said I am insane. I stand by that, and I enjoy it- I enjoy it, I live it... but maybe I'm only alive because of him. Maybe I'm meant to die, maybe my body is weak enough, but my heart... it isn't ready to let go.

Maybe I'm just pretending.

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I hadn't meant for this to be updated, but I was inspired. It's short, but it's a drabble. Please review!