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Excruciating pain	By : KidaRiddle Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 685 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make no money out of this story. Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.

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- 1-Excruciating pain
- 1
Exruciating pain

How come I always write about pain? I don’t know. Maybe everything hurts inside me. Heartless emotions. That’s the way I was raised. No emotions. My father, mother and sisters. Lovely, but I don’t feel anything for them, at least not at the moment. I want to cry all the time, but I show no emotions and never weakness. He wouldn’t allow it. I hate my life. I hate my own language and I have failed in everything. Horrible thing, failure. You haven’t succeeded and you feel ashamed. You try to build it up again, but even that’s a failure. You can’t do anything right anymore. Growing older is hard, but being a teenager is even harder. Move. Take me back to my childhood, my mother. When everything was fine and when my father seemed to care about me and what was going on around me. I have a feeling he doesn’t anymore, but it’s just a hunch. Anything wrong and he’s angry. Even if it’s not me who’s done anything wrong. He’s never angry with my mother. Never. Even if she does the same thing it’s not wrong, but it’s not right either. I won’t say he doesn’t punish her, because he does. It breaks my heart to see her being tortured, but I have always pretended it didn’t mean anything. Now I know I was wrong. It does mean something. I just discovered it too late. Now my heart is already broken and my brain empty. How am I supposed to keep living when I feel that everything’s wrong. How will I ever be happy again? Maybe if I move to another country. England for example. I love London and the language, maybe not the accent but I can live with that. At least for a while. You could probably tell I like England since the text is in English and I’m from Sweden. I’m confused. Never in my life have I felt this way. It’s horrible and I want to move, but I’m afraid. Scared that I will loose more than I already have. My friends, my family and everyone I care about. Not that I care about many people but I don’t want to loose the one close to me, then maybe I will become crazy as my mother. Heh, maybe not. I’m not like her in any way. I’m having a hard time getting friends and everyone’s making fun of me. Laughing behind my back, thinking I can’t hear them, but I do. I hear everything. Even if they whisper I hear them and I can’t turn it off. I thought this letter would help me to understand myself, but it really hasn’t. Maybe if I keep writhing I will understand more. Maybe I don’t but it’s none of my concern. I don’t care, I never care anymore. It’s still no use and emotionless. Pain. Again this word. . The tears are in the corner of my eyes and I have to take a deep breath to shake them away. I’m tired of listening at this fool and his pathetic words. He doesn’t understand me and I hate this school. I can’t see what my father thought was so good about it. I have to keep a smile on my lips to not make anyone suspicious. They will never know how horribly I have it. Not like they would care. The only way for them to find out what’s inside this book and they won’t do that without my permission. I know they’ll respect that. Daddy would be furious and they would be dead before even finding this page. Daddy doesn’t care about my school supplies. He buys me what I want. I always get what I want without asking twice.

Now we’re here again, discussing history. Lovely history. I love history, but they make it so hard for me to understand. I wish they could make it a bit easier to understand. In the community I don’t understand why I should know that, and anyway. Who cares? I don’t and I don’t think the rest of the class does either. Maybe Linda but she’s different. This is becoming a longer text then I had planned from the beginning. Just a couple of minutes ago I didn’t even have a plan to do this, and look at me now. Look what I’ve become. It’s not me, but still I can’t stop typing. I just realized I haven’t gotten anything out of this, school sucks at the moment. I hate to speak in public and when we have tests involving that I get I low grade which will probably tell them that I don’t know anything, even if I do but don’t get a chance of showing it. It’s even more horrible when you don’t know the people around you that well and since school only started a couple of months ago I barely know any of them. I have never had a problem involving speaking with my fathers so called friends, even if I don’t know them. Maybe it’s because daddy trusts them to be around me, otherwise he wouldn’t let me.

Suddenly I think my life is going to take a new turn in life. The teacher’s weird, wanting to work like he does. Tomorrow I will be cutting my hair. Finally. I need that and I hate this discussion. It leads nowhere. To bad every fun people have left, or never showed up at all. People here are so weird. Hopeless day. My heart is ripped apart again. I need to let the pain flow away, not on a cloud they are to cozy and I’m not cozy. Even if pain is good, it still hurts and will lead nowhere but to more pain. Now I’m tired and everyone’s given me a headache from blabbering into each others mouths, talking at the same time. I need to get out of here. NOW!

Sorry about that, I don’t know what has gotten into me today, but I feel so lonely. More than I usually do. I need to laugh, but I’m not sure I know how to do it anymore. It’s been so long time now since I laughed for real. Not some kind of fun laughing just for the laughing, but to actually have some fun at the moment. Maybe I should invite a friend over and we can have a sleepover. No what the hell am I thinking. I can’t do that. Not if I want my friend to stay alive. Daddy would never agree on that part and that’s why I have never had any friends with me home.

This Thursday was actually not that bad, but I didn’t laugh. I never laugh in public any more. People will just look at me in a very strange way and I will blush and run away. I know my English suck, but I love it anyway and I speak it as much as I can, which isn’t very much. Britney and I spoke yesterday evening, or maybe you should say night. We spoke very late and it was wonderful. We really should do that again some time, but in that case on my own accord, not hers. I never listen to anyone else. I do what I want and if someone gets in my way daddy will kill them. As I said I can do whatever I want to, maybe not go and date a muggle, not that I would want to of course. They are horrible creeps that don’t deserve to live on this earth. Not as free people anyway. Maybe as servants or slaves. Never anything above that. I’m interrupted by a question, just give me two minutes.

Now I’m back. Maybe I should stop writing now. The lesson is soon to be over and it’s going to take hell of a lot time to type this into the computer, why can’t I use magic to do it? I know the answer to that question. I’m underage and underage people are not supposed to do magic outside of school, of course I do that anyway, but I’m never going to let the ministry know about that. They could never track down my magic since my father has blocked every visible and invisible sign of it. He’s the only one to notice if I do magic without permission. Not that it happens very often, but sometimes when I’m bored.

I can’t find enough concentration for the lesson, which is the reason I’m writing this instead. Our teacher makes it so boring and I can’t stand that. He probably doesn’t care about that, but I can at least give it a try. Maybe he’ll notice that I know what I’m speaking about for once. This is a good way of keeping secrets without sharing. Of course then it wouldn’t be a secret, but you probably know me at this time. I don’t know what I would do if someone read this and found out what I really think about torture and all that stuff. I think it’s horrible if you don’t deserve it, but as I said earlier pain is a good thing even if it hurts. What if I’m becoming like my father, or worse, my mother. Maybe becoming like daddy isn’t as bad as mother but… I’m not even sure I know what I’m talking about anymore.

Sigh

I think I’m becoming as sentimental as my father, but I’m not sure yet. I need to research it for a while before I make any promises. I’m only doing this to express my feelings without anybody finding out and this is a good way of doing just that. I need to do this once in a while not to get depressed. Either way I don’t think daddy would appreciate if I suddenly told him abut all my feelings. He doesn’t love and I don’t think he’s ever done that. Maybe I can speak to Nicholas or my uncle. Or not. I would never want to speak with them about such an important thing. They would just go straight to daddy and I would be grounded for the rest of my life. No, it’s better if no one finds this letter. If you can even call it a letter? I’m not so sure about it any more. Maybe I let my children read this when and if I ever have some. Then they know what I feel, but let’s not think about that at the moment. Let’s keep going, don’t you think? Okay, so maybe I won’t be grounded because I’ve never been that before when I have expressed my feelings for any of my friends to daddy, but let’s keep it on the safe side, shall we? I’ve never been hurt, physical in my entire life. Wait, that not true. Mother hit me once when I was around seven I think. Daddy became furious at mother and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him that angry with anyone before. Since then no one’s dared to even touch me. In a way that’s good but it makes it really hard for me to talk to someone of daddy’s friends.

God, I’m such a horrible person, wishing for my mother to get hurt, but I think it has something to do with the fact that it was my father who raised me and not my mother.

Tut, tut. I can’t believe I’m going to spend the whole weekend without Britney. She’s going to spend the weekend as her boyfriend Alec’s house. Then I won’t hear them and now I can’t show this to him either. That would be a huge betrayal of Britney. I and especially not her wants to find out what they are doing at night, or day it doesn’t matter. Not that I don’t think they already know, because I know they do but then I would have to explain how I knew it and that’s just embarrassing.

Ten minutes left of the lesson and I have written about two pages, three on the computer. Wait. I’m not supposed to know what a computer is, am I? It’s a complete muggle thing, in which I do not socialize, but it a good invention, since it going hell of a lot faster to write on this machine instead of the paper, or parchment. That depends on what you use. So hopefully I can spend time with my lovely cousin Hannah today, age twelve, since her sister’s with Alec. Today Josephine got as shirt similar to the one Hannah have only is stands Death before dishonor in Josephine’s shirt. I don’t remember what Hannah’s shirt is saying but I know both of them have something to do with Ed Hardy. I have to admit I have absolutely no idea of who Ed Hardy is and it would be pathetic to ask someone. I’m supposed to take after my father and know everything. I should probably stop writing here in school now and finish this once I come home. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.

So, now I’m back. Sorry for just leaving you like that but I didn’t want to stay in an empty classroom and write on this one. And I had other lessons as well.

Well, now where were we? Oh right, I remember now. Ed Hardy. Yeah, yeah, maybe we should just skip that subject and move on. Speaking of subject I have only like one lesson during Monday. The only problem is that it’s for three ours. THREE freaking hours. Who in hell thinks that children can sit that long and focus? Probably no one but they do it just to piss us off. I don’t really care, since I have a ride for Mondays. At least most of them. You see, we start at half past twelve and the late bus arrives at ten. My classmates really should stop talking right now. I mean. I don’t thing they know.

What they’re saying all they time and is just speaking to have something funnier than the lesson to do.

Back again after some food. Deadly tired, but still typing. That’s amazing. As you probably have noticed by now I’m bored to death. I have nothing to do and my father’s in a meeting with his friends. I’m not allowed to interrupt them, but I sometimes do anyway just for fun. Daddy does not appreciate it, but he’s quiet, as are s friends. As if they would dare say anything to me in my father’s presence. As least not without permission which he would never allow them. I’m planning to tell you who my father is, but I think you already know by know. I have never given anyone this many clues before without telling something really revealing, but I think I’ve done that pretty well this time, don’t you think so to? As you might have guessed my father’s Lord Voldemort, or Tom Riddle as he does not prefer, but I like to tease him with that anyway. My mother? You might have a clue. Could be anyone, but why make it harder than it is? Yes you’re right. My mother’s Bellatrix Lestrange.

What, you’re all very confused and wonder how the hell that happened. I’ll tell you if you promise not to tell anyone else. Good. Thank you. On a second thought, I’m not sure I need to explain. My mother and father had sex and that’s the way I ended up, as children usually do. I also have to say that this was not an accident and neither of them was drunk. At least that’s what they have told me, but they could be lying. Then you wonder about Rodolphus, mother’s husband. Well, you see. He kind of died a painful death, an accident of course but there was nothing the healers could do for him. If he wasn’t such a bastard I would be feeling sorry for him. If you know this much you probably figured out that my uncle’s no one else but Lucius Malfoy and that Britney and Hannah are his daughter, but that doesn’t tell the story.

THE END

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Excruciating pain