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blaise zabini: writing about you after they killed you

why did i do it? why the hell did i do it, in the name of all the gods? i'm sitting here in my room, it's almost six am and i haven't slept at all. i don't think i will. all i can think about is what i did. i feel like i can't even look at myself. why in the hell did i do what i did?

i keep going back and forth, from believing i did the right thing and that what i did had to be done, to wanting to undo everything. if only i could go back and change my course. but i can't, now all i'm left with is the horror of what i have done.

i can't even look at myself in the mirror. every time i see my reflection, all i can see is her face. her beautiful bright eyes. i miss them so much. i want to see them again and i never will. i hate how much it hurts. i hate how much i miss her. i hate the fact that she's gone forever. i hate myself more than i could ever hate anything on this earth. all i can do is write and try to make sense of what i did.

i miss her smile. i miss her laugh. there's not a single part of her that i don't miss. she was the light in my world and i destroyed her.