-I-

I am



Bartemius Crouch Jr.









I am…I am…I am still alive. I am not afraid of what is coming. I am not and never will be afraid of anything.



Fear is the greatest traitor, it brings you to ruin when you least expect it so why give in. It's strange though how tempting it is sometimes to surrender to it because it feels so comfortable to go with the flow, to just let the instinct take over, to give in to the natural, animal reaction of fear.



The mind, the traitress, pleads, begs, tempts you to lose control, tries to exhort you that it's better, more than that it resorts to even lower means making you believe that it is how any normal human reacts. It is not so. If all would know everything would be better. What an idiotic thing to let it take over. It's the purest form of stupidity. It exceeds weakness, fear is not weakness, fear is stupidity and I hate human stupidity because it's flimsy, unjustified. An animal is lead by instinct because that is how it was built and it has no other choice. Men though, are made to think, to be aware, to build and control themselves. I have always done that, I have constructed myself brick by brick until I reached my personal ideal.



This is what I am and I cannot change, not that I ever wanted to. I smothered fear from the cradle, when it was only sprouting; I never let it grow roots into my soul. Timidity, reticence, failure, they spring from fear. How could you do what you want of your life, how could you accomplish your plans with the shadow of fear looming over, following you everywhere?



I am everything you are not. I am a wizard, I am of noble blood, I am happy with the life I've lived, I am proud of my accomplishments. I am a Death Eater, I have made justice, I have made my duty, and I have won.



The only thing that ever mattered to me had been my Master's word – my only guide, my only light.



We are superior by birth; I only claimed what rightfully belonged to me, my most natural right, that of leading those that are inferior to me. I don't loath them, I'm aware that the mudbloods are as human as I am, but that doesn't mean that they should be my equals. A wild animal is made of flesh and bone, like me, but I don't let it inside my home, serve him diner at my table, work for him, they are not my equals and they should never be given an instrument of supreme power. They should never play with a wand. You can't give diamonds to pigs.



A mudblood hasn't been raised with the awareness that magic exists; it was raised in a muggle environment, surrounded by muggle objects, closed in their little abject world – these are the only things he can understand and hereditary he is incapable to develop a magical calling naturally. They would learn by heart, repeat again and again, but all to a point and then incapability strikes because through a mud blood's veins there isn't a single drop of the old, ancient blood, the blood of the ancestors. They can't come into our world, influencing, shaping, and diluting the ancient bloodlines. The menace is terrible and it is mind numbing how no one understands, truly surprising that not even he, with all his virtue and self – righteousness, followed the ancient and noble tradition. Sad.



I am sure that a shroud of stupidity has fallen over everyone's eyes. At least I'm certain I'm one of the few that act normal, who is aware of everything around him, one of the few that don't walk around blindly and pointlessly through this world. I am fair and responsible. I am responsible for the world I was born into and it is my duty to defend it at any cost. The only fact that I'm certain of is that to achieve the ends I desire I must accomplish it myself. Only through my endeavour and labour will I reach my goal. If there is one thing I learned from this worthless waste at my feet is that no one can do my job better than me.



Anyway, now that I think about it, what do I have to loose? Nothing! Only myself if I don't reach the goal I was born to reach. I'm one of the bringers of the old law, one that purifies through fire and washes through drowning. There is no other way.



My goal is much too high for hesitations, for doubts. I haven't been any father's son for a long time. I had a mother and that's all. He disappointed me with his addled ideas when I needed no deviations from the straight road I was just starting to walk on. His interests weren't honest, he never believed in anything, he never dedicated himself body and soul to anything, neither person nor ideal. The Dark Lord understands these things, he understands me. We are not that different, Him and me, actually I have more things in common with Him than I have with that man that's supposed to be my father. That man only sees his own selfish interest and he doesn't believe in anything. Interest and cowardice. Lots and lots of cowardice.



I just hope that the Dark Lord will be pleased with what I did. I just hope that my work here helped him. I know he is back and I feel it, I feel it in my veins. The Mark has sent power in my whole body. That amazing tingling in the back of my head that makes me feel unstoppable. And I am! I am unstoppable when he is with me. I have him beside me everyday; I have waited so many years and kept him in my mind every second of everyday. Everywhere I went he was behind my every word, every move, every breath – he kept me alive in that hellhole I was imprisoned, for him I managed to keep my wits about myself here, at Hogwarts, among all this human filth.



This is who I am and that is why this is nothing. This bone is nothing but a bone. This bone is the nothing he was. And he was nothing to me. I never needed him to be anything. Ephemeral, decay - an insignificant object soon to rot in the bowels of the Earth like a common leaf among the billions of billions of common leafs eaten by the greedy land every year.



The black mouth of the Earth, blacker than the darkest of nights, crushing this bone in its teeth; its black fangs will close over the dull white and its moist and rough tongue will dissolve it in the smallest of particles until its mere existence will only be an amusing memory – an amusing nothing.



I am everything, everything that he never was. I'd like him to be here and look at himself. I am sure that the revelation of his last moment in being would open his eyes to reality – would wake him to an uncharacteristically powerful epiphany. I know it.



I feel like laughing seeing the soil gulping the nothing so enthusiastically. But I'm not laughing, not yet. My lips peel slowly of my teeth and I'm grinning at the pathetic white that is still trying to fight its way out of the engulfing, humid darkness. I fall on my knees, "father" in peals of laughter spitting on the awkward, abject grave I made for you. I spit because you are nothing.



"You were hoping to see me kneeling and weeping at your grave, right? Suffering? What a joke! I have no one to cry for anymore! You took care of that!" I yell at you as if you were in front of me. I do not want to crawl in the mud anymore, I need to stand up. Stand up and look down at you.



I am what you didn't want. I am your nightmare and it is perfect. I am not what you, in your bloody righteousness, wanted. I am me, not you. You with your slimy moustache and your sleek hair, with your stiff robes and uppity manners, your rules and your shame, your fad, phobia, rigidity, severity, your daily routines and your frustrations, you with your imbecile gestures and habits that would drive me round the bend. Your voice, your manner of walking, your words and your clothing and likes and dislikes – the smallest of things that made you who you were – the most annoying and maddening things in the world.



How pathetic you were father, so pathetic and awkward that I have to lean against this tree next to your grave not to fall on the ground laughing. I laugh and laugh and fall on my knees again, hitting the ground with my fists beating the dust in place over you. My fists ache, the pain wakes me to my newfound freedom.



I am finally me. Finally I am not you. I am free.



Anything can happen now, I could die now, I don't care, I will die with tears of laughter in my eyes.

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