𝕸𝖞 𝖔𝖕𝖕𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖓𝖙

What was I thinking? Honestly, I don't know. At that moment, I think all I could sense was a mass of weight falling off my shoulder, coming loudly knocking on the ground, and disappearing into the sinker. Or in the cellar. It doesn't matter.

Horcrux.

I think I guessed from the very beginning, the nature of my situation. Could Dumbledore have known that? Or did he just hope that I wouldn't think about it more closely and explain to myself possible versions that might have disrupted the security of my mission? Could he have foreseen that it wasn't until the final moment that realization would set you apart?

I'm Horcrux.

The diary. The ring. The snake. The cup. The diadem. The locket.

And myself. Seven in total.

Could fate have thrown an even bigger rock into the glass of my fragile life to break it? The shards hurt and bite deep into my heart, but I can't help but endure it, endure it, survive, live.

For my friends. For the people. For the wizarding world. For my life.

For myself...

All it takes to defeat me is for him to kill me, to finish me off. My whole life has been permeated by this, in its entirety, as a poem with a framed structure, that He wants to kill me. He was always there, he ruled me, I couldn't do anything about it, I wasn't even born yet he affected my life, my past, my future, my present.

And yet, when did I become so dramatic? And since when have I compared myself to a poem?

Maybe this is a sign that I'm starting to become the same as him? Although the professor told me that what matters is not what we are similar in, but what we differ in, yet...

If I had died that night, right then and there, it wouldn't have happened. Life might be a lot bleaker, that's right, and I wouldn't even know my friends, who are more important to me than anything else. But my friends can't understand this neither do the others. Everyone talks to their own side to save their own skin.

But who's going to save mine? If it had been nipped in the bud earlier, we might still have a slight chance now.

After all, now, that I know the truth about what I am, who I am, what is inside me, deep under my skin, locked in my chest, I wouldn't feel what I feel right now.

I think I guessed from the very beginning, the nature of my situation. Could Dumbledore have known that? Or did he just hope that I wouldn't think about it more closely and explain to myself possible versions that might have disrupted the security of my mission? Could he have foreseen that it wasn't until the final moment that realization would set you apart?

That I would be unable to kill Voldemort?

Tom?

I know who he is, what he did, what kind of figure he is. That my life became like this because of him, it was because of him that I lost my parents... And I could blame him for Sirius' death, but for what? It was entirely my fault, I was naive, weak and emotional, which is not allowed in war, because they have such consequences. Death, pain, torment and suffering. Believing myself that nothing was my fault would be just as bad as blaming him.

But outsiders can't understand that.

I killed myself in a nice line, step by step, piece by piece, soul by soul, just like him. I felt the same pain that Tom did. What could he possibly think then? Was he afraid? Dreaded? Or was he hoping I wouldn't kill every little bit of his soul?

Our soul?

I know Voldemort is a monster, but Tom isn't a terrible person.

Just an uncomprehending, love-deprived little boy locked in an adult body who no one ever understood. Just me. Because I know, I saw him, after destroying the diadem, he kept Nagini with him all along. What reason was he for besides fear? Love? Was he afraid of his little animal, which then fed and protected him?

I don't know. I don't feel it.

I'm starting to lose touch with him. But I have no idea if I'm happy about this fact or not. Negative feelings go away, and positive ones remain and even intensify. My dear enemy, now I know how to defeat you, yet doubts plague me.

If you had been given a chance, for a better life, perhaps things would have turned out differently. Please, if you hear me, don't take it personally. I have to do it, I have to, forgive me. I can see it in your eyes, because I'm standing here, in front of you.

I'll hold my wand on you, but it's only the second one I own. The first one is there for you, in your hands, yes. I know, but do you? That wand, right there, between your fingers, isn't yours. It won't hurt me, so it gives me permission for my magic to be fulfilled, and you fall into the dust, you get into the air, and I breathe you deeply. Even after all this, the empty bleak barrenness of my soul is not filled with light and flowers.

Because you're gone, and I'm supposed to be happy, but I'm not. I pity you and I'm feeling sorry for you Tom.

Over the course of my life, I began to get to know you more and more, and when it came to that, I only noticed that you had become more important to me than anything else. You've filled every moment of my life, and now I feel with your disappearance, I'm not who I was.

Tom Marvolo Riddle. My opponent.

I understand you, and by this means, I was the one who triumphed over you. But I hope you know what all this means, even if I never said it, even at the last minute.

"𝒲𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝐼 𝓊𝓃𝒹ℯ𝓇𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝓎 ℯ𝓃ℯ𝓂𝓎 𝓌ℯ𝓁𝓁 ℯ𝓃ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉ℴ 𝒹ℯ𝒻ℯ𝒶𝓉 𝒽𝒾𝓂, 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂ℴ𝓂ℯ𝓃𝓉, 𝐼 𝒶𝓁𝓈ℴ 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝒽𝒾𝓂."

- A. E. Wiggin

Goodbye.