I Just Keep Running

I Just Keep Running

I must be dreaming. No, I must be dead. What am I saying? I SHOULD be dead.

I can't breathe. What's happening? What's going on? Where am I going?

I run blindly through the dark. Someone's holding my arm hard, to the point that it hurts. They're pulling me along, making me run faster and faster. He keeps muttering to himself, "What have I done? Oh, god! What have I done?"

That's exactly what I'm thinking. What have I done?

In a second, we're somewhere else. I open my eyes. It's a small room with a dusty desk with papers falling off the edge.

"Please, don't make me see him yet," I manage to choke out. "I... I failed."

"No," I hear someone say into my ear. "You didn't fail."

That makes me cry even harder.

"You... you killed him. I've never seen someone die before. I... you..."

"Yes, I killed him," I hear him say. It's then that I realize that he's crying. "He begged me not to, but I did anyway. I thought of the times when he treated me like dirt and when I knew that he hated me, and I killed him. He made me promise never to blow my cover, even if it meant death. I was under the unbreakable. I would've died if I hadn't. He told me not to give myself away. He told me... he told me..."

I don't know what he's talking about, but I do know this: before tonight, I never saw Professor Snape cry.

"He told me... He told me..."

I feel dizzy. Very dizzy. I begin to wonder what everyone must think of me. I bet Potter is sneering and saying, "I told you so. I told you that boy was trouble." But, I am, aren't I?

I try telling myself that it wasn't my fault. I lowered my wand, didn't I? I wasn't the one that actually killed the old man. Besides, if it happened happened, he would've killed me.

But, deep down, I know that it's all my fault.

Yes, Voldemort would've killed me, but I should've welcomed death, rather than take the cowards way out. Yes, I lowered my wand, but who says I wouldn't have lifted it again? Yes, I wasn't the one that killed Dumbledore, but I was supposed to be.

Professor Snape mutters something.

"What?" I croak.

"Run," he repeates.

I don't respond.

"Run, Draco. Run as far as you can go. You're not a murderer yet. Don't let him make you one. You can't join the other side, but you can leave the one you're already on."

"What about you?" I whisper.

"It's too late for me," the professor says. "Do you think he was the first one I've killed? No, Draco, you must go alone. Forget about me."

"But, what if he's defeated? You'll be killed."

He let's out a cold, hard laugh. "Either way, I'll be killed. People like me never live, no matter what side wins."

I nod, because I know it's true. He's right. There's not hope for him. But, there is hope for me.

"Good bye," I say.

"Good bye," he says.

I apparate immediatley. Now I'm outside, it's cold. Too cold. I'm running. I'm crying. I want to be screaming.

Where will you go? A haunting voice says in my head.

Far away, I answer.

The voice in my head laughs. You'll be killed, no matter what, now.

I don't care, I say.

Murderer, murderer,...

No, I'm not!

Murderer, murderer,...

I didn't do it! I wouldn't have done it!

Murderer, murderer,...

I had to! I had no other choice!

Murderer, Murderer,...

I just keep running. Running into the dark.

Murderer, murderer,...

I don't care where I go. I just need to leave. I just need to run.

Murderer, murderer,...

I keep running. I don't stop. Nothing can keep me from running.

Murderer, murderer,...