George woke up with the sun. He felt empty. 'It must be due to hunger.' "Fred! Get up!" George looked over to where Fred's bed was only to discover it was gone. Then the memories of the day before hit him. The emptiness became pain. George curled up into a ball trying to keep the heart-renching screams of loss in and the pain of life out. Tears streamed down his face.
Fred was gone.
Once the pain died down enough for George to breathe, he got up and went to the bathroom to wash the tears-stains away. He rinsed his face and when he was wiping his face dry he looked up.
He saw the reflection. 'Fred.' A wreaking ball of pure agony hit him. He calapsed on the floor as he cried his heart out. He felt arms wrap around him. He didn't care to look up to see who was holding him.
His twin was gone. His other half. His support in hard times. The one who would pull pranks with him. Who would tease Percy with him when he acted too much like a git. His best-friend. His brother. The link between them had snapped the moment he died. Now, there is nothing left to hold on to.
"It's okay... Shh... It's okay." Ginny, of coarse. Her room was right next to the bathroom. The pain slowly lessened, but did not go away.
George looked at the mirror again and did the first thing he thought of to get rid of the tormenting thing:
He punched it.
He shattered the mirror into dozens of different parts. The glass rained down on the sink. George could only see his eye in the mirror now.
His knuckles were bleeding but he did not feel the pain. All he felt was emptiness.
He and Fred did everything together now he's dead. We were suppose to be together forever and now he's gone.
Then, forever. Now, gone.
Forever and gone.
