Post by Elienp on Oct 4, 2011 8:39:19 GMT -8
Title: My only request
Rating: PG
Words: 756
Letter/Diary: Let me explain, this is the draft of a letter written in his diary. The end ( after [...] ) doesn't belong to the letter but to his diary.
Summary: He'd like to be honest, he tries to write his feelings but the result is the same: his thoughts will never be known.
I don't know why I'm writing again, isn't it the third time in less than two weeks?
Do you even read my letters? I doubt it, if you do,please forget my scepticism and give a chance to the following words.
They're important.They represent They're my last wish.
I would like want you to take care of her. She is the only woman in my life, will always be the first one. And I'm scared scared, when I'm not by her side any more that something bad may happen to her. I'm not the best suited man to be called a protector, I've always done my best though.
But, soon, I won't be able to continue. And itscares scares me.
I know very well I've already used one of the forbidden words, twice actually (more if you count the two attempts I first crossed out).
Let me write it once again: I'm scared. Can I not write it when it's the purest truth? Can I keep doing as if nothing was going wrong? As if there was no worry in my life? No. I simply can't.
You are probably seething over my words, clutching the scroll so much that it's certainly being torn. Well if you're reading it, it goes without saying...
You are mad when you shouldn't, because it's normal to be scared, it's human and whatever is your opinion we – you and I, but also everyone else – are human. It's a thing we have in common. A thing which has nothing to do with magic. It is a truth even you, even Him, can't deny.
Unfortunately, I haven't discovered it earlier. If I had, things might not have been the same,so lame, so pitiful... I might have allowed myself to be scared more often, to have my own opinion, to freely express it (because I'd have dared think about a matter by myself, not only through your words).
I hadn't.
Because of you, because you kept me blind and deaf to the others' opinions, to their advice, to their affection, because you did your best to teach me you were the only one I had to trust.
And,as your son, like a fool, I trusted you.
Such a trust has killed me.
My lungs are moving, air is going in and out them, my heart is beating, my eyes blinking, my hand obviously holding a pen and yet, I'm already dead.
The activity of a body means nothing when the heart and soul have stopped living. Then, the person is only a puppet. I've been a puppet for a long time now. Blind and deaf, stupid and arrogant, I hadn't understood it until a month ago.
Until it became painfully obvious. Until I understood I was only living for her, to protect her.
If she wasn't there, I'd have already left that world. However, soon her living would not be enough to keep me alive, to keep the puppet-me moving, because I have orders to follow, your orders, which are going to lead me to my final death.
I will obey you until the end. I don't really understand why, but I feel I can't do anything else.
Besides, if I don't, will she be safe? No. Of course not. You have condemned us. I can forgive you about my sentence, not about hers.
How could you have done that to her? How can you live while knowing her life is threatened because of you? How can
It doesn't matter any more.
I will obey you.He will be satisfied and she will be safe.
I know I won't live through this. I don't know how I've made it until now. Do you realise what I am to do? What I am to commit?
Suicide
Take care of her. It's my only request.You owe me that one.
I will offer you a dead son you will be able to be proud of.
Be sure to be the one I will see in Hell. It is our place, not hers.
Mother is to be spared, at all costs.
Please,
Never Forget That.
[…] Today, I write my last letter to my father. He will never read it. I won't send it. I'm a coward, a dead coward.
I only regret not to have told Mother I loved her.
I won't be able to do it any more now.
Today, I'm going to kill Dumbledore.
And I feel it will be my last action.
Today, I'm condemned to die.
Awarded 10 Points, by Zoe, on October 5 2011.
Rating: PG
Words: 756
Letter/Diary: Let me explain, this is the draft of a letter written in his diary. The end ( after [...] ) doesn't belong to the letter but to his diary.
Summary: He'd like to be honest, he tries to write his feelings but the result is the same: his thoughts will never be known.
I don't know why I'm writing again, isn't it the third time in less than two weeks?
Do you even read my letters? I doubt it, if you do,
They're important.
I
But, soon, I won't be able to continue. And it
I know very well I've already used one of the forbidden words, twice actually (more if you count the two attempts I first crossed out).
Let me write it once again: I'm scared. Can I not write it when it's the purest truth? Can I keep doing as if nothing was going wrong? As if there was no worry in my life? No. I simply can't.
You are probably seething over my words, clutching the scroll so much that it's certainly being torn.
You are mad when you shouldn't, because it's normal to be scared, it's human and whatever is your opinion we – you and I, but also everyone else – are human. It's a thing we have in common. A thing which has nothing to do with magic. It is a truth even you,
Unfortunately, I haven't discovered it earlier. If I had, things might not have been the same,
I hadn't.
Because of you, because you kept me blind and deaf to the others' opinions, to their advice, to their affection, because you did your best to teach me you were the only one I had to trust.
And,
Such a trust has killed me.
My lungs are moving, air is going in and out them, my heart is beating, my eyes blinking, my hand obviously holding a pen and yet, I'm already dead.
The activity of a body means nothing when the heart and soul have stopped living. Then, the person is only a puppet. I've been a puppet for a long time now. Blind and deaf, stupid and arrogant, I hadn't understood it until a month ago.
Until it became painfully obvious. Until I understood I was only living for her, to protect her.
If she wasn't there, I'd have already left that world. However, soon her living would not be enough to keep me alive, to keep the puppet-me moving, because I have orders to follow, your orders, which are going to lead me to my final death.
I will obey you until the end. I don't really understand why, but I feel I can't do anything else.
Besides, if I don't, will she be safe? No. Of course not. You have condemned us. I can forgive you about my sentence, not about hers.
How could you have done that to her? How can you live while knowing her life is threatened because of you?
It doesn't matter any more.
I will obey you.
I know I won't live through this. I don't know how I've made it until now. Do you realise what I am to do? What I am to commit?
Take care of her. It's my only request.
I will offer you a dead son you will be able to be proud of.
Be sure to be the one I will see in Hell. It is our place, not hers.
Mother is to be spared, at all costs.
Never Forget That.
[…] Today, I write my last letter to my father. He will never read it. I won't send it. I'm a coward, a dead coward.
I only regret not to have told Mother I loved her.
I won't be able to do it any more now.
Today, I'm going to kill Dumbledore.
And I feel it will be my last action.
Today, I'm condemned to die.
Awarded 10 Points, by Zoe, on October 5 2011.