Draco:

There went down the last cup of whiskey. It feels great when it burns my throat, takes my mind of things. Things that I don’t want to think about. My past was terrible. My present is terrible. My future looks bleak. If I’m lucky, I’ll be dead by next year.

That’s a horrible thing to say, but I for one don’t cherish my life as some people do.

My good friend Blaise is always telling me to get out in the world more, take a chance, fall for a girl. But as little as he knows, I’ve got everything I need; my alcohol and a different girl every night. It sure does ease the pain…for as long as it lasts.

Sometimes, I think Blaise is right. Would it really patch things up if I did take a chance? If I did fall for a girl? If I would strive as hard as I could for a normal life?

Ha. That’s a laugh. What is normal anyway? I’ve heard of it, but its nothing I’ve ever experienced.

My life has certainly been the farthest thing from normal. I had a coward as a father. He bowed down, did everything for, practically sucked Lord Voldemort’s dick just to be accepted. He then took the easy way out when Voldemort was defeated and gave himself up for a death sentence, commiting suicide practically. My father also beat the shit out of me when he could, just to show that he was a man to me, but I never thought of that pathetic excuse of life as a man, let alone a real father.

My mother was just a kiss up. Always had to be on my father’s best side. Always had to be the perfect wife. Always had to be the perfect mother. Always had to be the perfect deatheater. She was also had to be the perfect drunk, the perfect pill-popper, the perfect prostitute. She had a different man every night when my father wasn’t home. I guess she got tired at the end of the day from being so damn perfect.

Hogwarts was an escape. My only escape, until Voldemort came along. He made me find a way for him and his deatheaters to get inside the castle. He made me try to kill Dumbledore, when he knew very well that I couldn’t even bloody well do it. I hated that man, Voldemort not Dumbledore. I loved Dumbldore. He saw me in the weakest of times. He didn’t punish me for being so damn weak either; he comforted me. He was my light in the darkness. He was my real father.

But of course no one can know that. I was a Malfoy through and through, still a Malfoy through and through. I don’t want to be, but I am.

They only person that even came close to being close to me was Vivian Riddle. Oh God did she have a chance, but she didn’t take it.

She was assigned to help me with my mission from Voldemort. At first I thought she was annoying, but as I got to know her, I started to fall for her. She never knew it of course. I loved everything about her from her toes to her face, from her smile to her laugh, from her personality to her body.

Oh God, I can’t believe I would get sentimental over that bitch.

She seemed perfectly nice at first. We got along pretty well, but she never let herself be close to me, physically or emotionally. I hoped and prayed for the day when she would even look at me differently. She did once, and I laid it all on the line for her. I told her secrets that I never let slip through my lips before, and she listened. When I was finished, she just sat there. Didn’t say anything. Didn’t do anything, until she started to lean in towards me. She was going to kiss me. I knew it. I felt it too, and I leaned forward.

She then turned her head, and I ended up kissing her cheek. She never spoke to me again after that.

Huh, I haven’t thought about her in a while. I wonder if she’s still a bitch after all these years.

Well, I then got up and headed off to a local bar. I needed a nice, giant firewhiskey and a sexy girl to get my mind of things.