(no subject)
Christmas Eve and I'm sitting on the roof in hopes that Mum and Dad don't look here and just have the common sense to leave me alone. All I want for Christmas is for things to be the way they were last September, before Lizzie married Derek, before Jo changed, before Victor left school, before I threw Lyn away, back when I had a family. Back when I had everything.
I have the strongest urge to write a note here telling eveyone what I think of them, and leave it before I jump off this roof and see what happens.
Yeah, I don't think it could get much worse than this.
I don't deserve to be pure. I'd switch with a Muggleborn if I could. I'd save someone, if I could. Too bad. I'm a waste of pure blood. I'm going to live, they're going to die, and there's nothing just at all about that.
Happy fucking Christmas, everyone.