Tragedy is a tool for the living
To gain wisdom
Not a guide by which to live
~ Robert Kennedy
People called it a tragedy and I guess that was what I would call it too, but to me it was more like dying, and I wasn't the one who was dead. My twin brother Fred was dead and that was something that I was told to deal with. They say depression is a horrible thing but nobody knows the troubles of it until they have it. The life I was living now was almost a complete lie. I put on a happy, smiling face for my family but I wasn't happy. I didn't want anyone to worry and I guess you could say I've always been that way. The Seven Stages of Grief, I've been through them all but I guess I deleted some. I didn't like always having someone there to check on me and I still don't. I can't understand why they can't just leave me be. At first I blamed Percy for his death but now that seems child like. I haven't fully forgiven him for everything but I don't hold him responsible for his death anymore. My mother still sometimes calls me Fred and I don't know if it's because she wishes he were still here or if she does it out of habit, but still it stings. I simply sighed as I walked up to the Burrow and let myself in. I could smell roast beef and fresh rolls and they pulled me to the kitchen. I opened the oven and peeked inside.
"Fred" my mother said coming into the kitchen. "Get out of there" I pulled my head out of the oven to look at my mother. She gasped. "George I'm sorry" I shook my head smiling.
"Seriously woman, and you call yourself our mother"