Disclaimer: I do not own HP or anything else for that matter, which is why it is called a fanfiction, but this is the only disclaimer I am going to write for this story because I hate writing these.

Summary: Someone is suffering, and they have been for a long time. Abuse, Anger, Sadness, Lonliness, Feeling of Abandon, and Hatred course through them constantly, forcing them to recollect their life as they go through it day by day, hating every instant while also relishing every moment. Follow along as they tell us how they feel.

You will find out who it is at the end of the chapter.

Chapter One: My Choice

Have I forgotten what it feels like? Have I forgotten the taste of a laugh on my lips, and the warmth of a smile on my cheeks? A warm breeze brushes past me as I ponder these thoughts again and again in my head, giving myself the same answer repeatedly until it sounds bitter, even in my own head. I Don't Know.

I don't know if I have forgotten what it feels like, because I do not know what it felt like. The last time I felt these things, I was but an infant in my mother's arms… or at least, the last time I did them willingly. My father put an end to all of that as soon as I could walk. He made sure that I did only what I was told I could do. Nothing more, nothing less, only what he commanded, when he commanded it, with no complaints; which is why my silent plea went unheard… why my cries fell on deaf ears. There was no one willing to help me.

No one wanted me; no one cared about me enough to notice the bruise on my face, or the cuts on my arms when I arrived at Hogwarts each year. If they had, they would have looked harder. They would have realized that I did not "fall down" or "scrape against a corner stone" as I told them year after year. No child is that clumsy, at least, none that I know.

My bitter thoughts swim around my head one after another as I arrive at the iron gates. I glance up at them for a moment as a flood of memories rushes my mind all at once before shutting them down. I run my pale fingers over the cold, strong bars, relishing the icy chill it brings my hand, sending a shock through my nerves, up my arm, bringing me out of my thoughts for only a moment as I wonder if I have made the right choice. Am I doing this for myself? Will he approve?

I turn abruptly away from the bars as slam my back into them, running a hand through my dark hair as I growl in frustration at my own accursed thoughts. Why should I care? Why should I give a damn what he thinks?

Because, I realize in horror, that is all I know. Every single thought, every word that comes out of my mouth, is from him. I face the gates again in disgust, with myself, and with him. This had better work. I will not take it anymore.

I open the latch with a simple alohomora and walk into the graveyard where we have chosen to meet. I close the gates behind me as silently as possible, and walk forward for what seems like ages. Suddenly, I see them. A circle of figures dressed in black with white masks that look like death. I suppress a shudder as I step forward again. The last step seems to be over all to quickly as I enter the circle and stand in the middle of all of them.

"Ah…" he says, his red eyes glinting in the moonlight. "Glad you could join us."

So here I am, Severus Snape, seventeen and joining the Death Eaters in a lifelong mission to grovel at Lord Voldemort's feet. Why? Because maybe, just maybe, he won't hate me so much if I do this.

A/n: so tell me what you think, and if I should make more chapters for it. Thanks for reading, and please review, because I am desperate for them.