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Today marks the day I sold my soul to Voldemort. Or more like the day my parents sold my soul to him. They both made it seem like it was a choice. Everyone made it seem like it was a choice. But it was never a choice, never mine anyway.
I’m scared shitless but it’s not like that matters, right? It will all turn out good after the war. Or so I’m told. But now we’re on our way for me to get the mark.
“Are you scared, Draco?” Of course, it was Father. It’s always Father.
“No, Father.” Straight and to the point, and better yet respectful. But hey, that’s all I ever am. But yet it’s never enough.
It’s never enough. It’s never enough. It’s never enough. Never enough. Never ever enough.
“Draco darling, we’re here.” This is Mothers voice now. “Draco, come on.”
This next part, I would tell you about, but I’d rather forget about it. So please don’t ask about it. Please don’t talk about it. Please leave it be. Please leave me alone. Please let me act like I’m alright. Please let me act like it’ll all be okay. Because that’s what they tell me. So let them be right. Because it’ll all be okay.
-
We’re home now. Home sweet home. Except i’m in pain. Pain sweet pain. Sweet Merlin, why me. That stupid fucking cunt. You’re supposed to be my dad, you’re supposed to protect me. Why are you the one putting me in pain?
Now there a knock. One knock. Two knocks. Three knocks. It’s Mother.
“Come in, Mother.”
The door creaks, she walks in. “Hello darling. I’m so sorry for what happened tonight. I shouldn’t of let it happen. I just wanted you to know that when I go to sleep tonight all I will think about is how I failed you. When I lay my head on my pillow, I will think of how bad a mother I am.”
You see, that statement makes me feel bad for her, but that’s exactly what she wants. She’s guilt tripping me. She’s manipulating me. So instead of saying anything, I say nothing.
She stares me in the eyes, hoping I’ll give in. I don’t. So then she’ll say something asking if there’s anything I want.
“Draco, darling, if you could have anything in the world, what would you want. What would make you happy?”
Well that’s the question, isn’t it? What do I want? It’s not like you’ll do it, it’s not like you’ll care. So why do you ask? What I want is to leave. Let me leave. Let me go. Yet you look at me with this sad look on your face. I believe that you’re sad. There’s no way you can’t be sad. But what about me? You say all these sad things about you, but what about me?
“I’m not sure, Mother.”
I want to leave but I cannot bring myself to say it.
I want to leave but what will happen to you when I’m gone.
I want to leave but most of all, you’ll never let.
So please let me go, but don’t make me say it.
I love you, but let me go.