He-who-must-not-be-named

My mother’s husband left me when I was an unborn child in her womb. What kind of a man does that? Isn’t much of a man at all. Does it matter that he was tricked into matrimony? My mother’s love for him must have been real for she lost the will to live when he left.  She chose to die for a man who didn’t want her rather than live for a boy who could have grown to love her.

So it came about that the two people who were supposed to love me unconditionally decided they didn’t want to. That’s how I landed up in an orphanage.

Love is a strange thing. It left me an orphan.

I never did grow to love Love. Never had need of it. Now ‘Power’ – that is something else. Power is what gets my heart beating. Heady, potent, intoxicating, empowering. Power.

I am special – I always was. I knew that – even when I was all alone in that crummy little orphanage, even before I discovered I had special powers, before the white bearded man came to take me away to that special school. I knew I was destined to rule the world one day.

I went to the school. I won over all the teachers, except perhaps the white bearded man. I became the model student – a prefect, a head-boy. I looked and listened, asked and found, wheedled and charmed my way to seek knowledge. For knowledge is power. I learnt. I learnt all I could, secrets so sinister professors shuddered to tell, magic so potent no one dare try it. None but I. I was special. I was preparing… knowing that a time would come when I’d realise my dream – that of becoming the most powerful man on earth.

Friends, relatives, loved ones – they slow you down. I don’t want them, I have no need of them. I work best alone. But I have followers, plenty of them. They rush to do my bidding. Some come out of fear, some because they need protection and some because they want a share of my power. They swear fidelity unto death. I make sure they keep their word.

I have enemies too, I know that. Every great man does. I never forget one (I made sure my ‘father’ met his just deserts). I know they will be vicious and violent and unforgiving. They will try to kill me. But I’m ready. I’ll beat them yet. I shall be immortal. It is possible, you know. Everything is possible, if you know how. They seek my soul but never will they find it for mine is split seven times over and hidden away. Even if my body is annihilated, I shall come back, more powerful than ever.

I am unstoppable, unconquered.

I am Lord Voldemort.

Note: Just wondered what it would be like if Voldemort aka Tom Riddle ever told his story.

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Linking up to ABC Wednesday for the letter V, with grateful thanks to Mrs Nesbitt who get’s me writing every week.