Severus Snape's internal monologue - after Lily's death.
It eats your heart out until hollow emptiness is the only thing that remains.
That was what he felt.
Every day, again and anew and afresh. It was what painfully reminded him that he was still alive. And she was not. Because of him. Because of his stupidity.
"Stupid, stupid you."
Oh, he could just... rip the insides out of his body with his bare hands. So foolish, so brainless.
"No, not brainless. Heartless."
Yes, that could explain a lot. He didn't have a heart to begin with.
So why did it hurt so much? Can a heart suddenly sprout in your chest out of nothingness? A flicker of light born in sticky darkness, that creeps to the very core of your being. It comes stealthily upon you and you do not even notice it until it is too late, marking you for the rest of your miserable existence.
Why why why was he so thick? Why couldn't he see what was right under his nose? Why did cruel fate have to teach him the hard way what are the things in life that matter most?
Why her? Why...
Why didn't he see it then? Why was it that it didn't seem wrong doing it? Why did he think he had the right, the obligation... Was it the youth, the resentment against the world? He did not remember the reasons any more... Everything seemed so insignificant now, so irrelevant, unimportant, so petty...
He could not feel anything anymore. He was numb with pain. His heart was just a shell of flesh. Empty. It was there to fulfil one purpose only and that purpose was to ensure her sacrifice was not in vain.
For her. For Lily.
He chocked even at the thought of her name. A bitter lump rose from his chest up to the centre of his head and flushed him until he was drowning in self-loathing.
He had never done anything good. He disgusted himself.
She was gone. Because of his – his what? Mistakes? No, that word is too mild to describe the horror of his actions, of his wrong decisions.
He will make sure she did not sacrifice herself for nothing. His sole purpose will be to fulfil this task.
That was the least he could do.
Shut up, don't you complain, don't you ever dare to utter a single word of protest, you do not whine! You suffer in your miserable existence. Suffer in silence.
He will suffer it, endure it, because that was what he deserved.
"You hear? That is what you deserve! You are despicable, you deserve it! You deserve every bit of it...What you endure is nothing compared to..."
Sometimes he wished he had never been born.
He would give anything to have her back. Even give his soul to the devil. Wait, he had already done that. And for what?
"Don't deny it, you wanted it, you desired it, you craved for it, you dreamt about it!"
"It doesn't matter anymore anyway. She's gone."
You will never show it to anyone. Never. Ever.
What if... what if someone finds out? No, no, it can never happen. Lock it away, put it in a safe place, hide it well, conceal it in the darkest depths, out of sight and out of reach and do not think about it.
Bury it, bury it like her disintegrating body had been buried. Like her lush verdant eyes, buried, dried, rotten. Never to see the light of day again.
What could he have done? What could he have done differently? What he should have done differently?
He did not know what he had when he had her. He thought... No, it seems he did not think at all. How could he ever in his right mind...
He learned his lesson the hard way. She had to suffer because of it. It was done. He had to live with it. Yet he kept wishing he were dead.
If he had a second chance, he would have chosen her.