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Sirius,
I have been advised that my letters should not begin melodramatically, but Narcissa has always been more on the proper side, even amongst family. But I digress, what I mean to say is when I say that if you are reading this then I am dead I am not being dramatic, even mellowly so. I don't believe this will be a poetic letter, though I have the time to pen it, I do not have the time to plan it. Even now, my death looms nearer. So, I will say it: you were right to leave, you were, too, right to have forsaken our parents. Sometimes, especially at times like these when I feel scared, I wished you would have had the strength to have stolen me with you and the cunningness to have gotten away with it. I wish I would have had the bravery and humility to have let you. I suppose in that regard we would have been well suited for each other. Though in our youth, before Hogwarts stole our love, it was rather obvious that we had been built for each other.
Even now, as my beliefs and that of our parents have led me down this path, my pride balks from the thought of changing my mind, of going to you and asking for help. So, I won't, and I will die an idiot's death and you will live on unaware and happy because even as I write this, I don't think I will send it. Though, I wonder if you would consider me an idiot? Would attempting to undermine and kill a Horcrux of Lord Voldemort be considered by you as idiotic? I don't know. Perhaps, you will get a laugh as to why; it seems that a combination of my fondness for Kreacher and my general understanding of humanity and what it means to have crossed a line has made me rather violent against him. Me violent? I know it is laughable. I could barely kill a spider if it sat still and begged for death. Is it strange that even after receiving the Dark Mark two years ago, even now I withdraw into myself when my more violent compatriots regal their murderous nights and torturous evenings? It seems that you may have had a fighting chance to "convert" me. If only you had given a damn when we had both been back in school when our parent's influence seemed more distant and the distance between us closer in my mind. Though, you too were a child. The problem was beyond our understanding and the consequences even more so.
If I am to be honest, I am scared. I don't want to die. I have half a mind to come to find you, to beg you to help me. But I know what would happen, you would come, you would help and you would do what I would have been too cowardly to do myself. And once my treachery has been revealed you would watch as the mark that I took, that I fought and bled for, burned across my arm, as I screamed and begged and went insane with pain. You would watch as I lost myself and died with images of my worst fears broadcasted in my mind. It is more humane and dignifying to simply die knocking Voldemort down so that you may instead avenge me.
As a final note, I am sorry for everything. Believe me, or don't, I won't know the difference as I will be dead. I have always loved you, even when I shouldn't have, even when I tried not to. You were my brother, always were, even as they blasted you from the tapestry and left me with the sickening ashy smell of your departure. You were my brother, even in the end, I will have considered you as such. I hope that may bring you some comfort, or perhaps it won't. Maybe you would prefer to not have a death eater for a brother. No matter, you can't be mad at the dead. So there, I shall be using the I-am-dead-so-you-can't-hate-me card. There is no counter card, do not even attempt it.
May your star guide me across,
Regulus