Broken
Disclaimer – I don't own anything mentioned in the books or movies
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I am broken. He was my other half, my brother, my best friend. And now he's gone forever, dead, deceased. And little George Weasley is incomplete. I just don't see the point anymore. He-who-must-not-be-named is gone, the war is over. Wahoo. I don't even have the energy to get up anymore. I can barely hold down food. I feel as though I'm empty.
Empty. I'm empty inside. I'm still living, still breathing. But I'm empty; my heart has shriveled up into a little ball and died. I'm amazed I haven't died of a broken heart. Fred's death has actually broken my heart. Not that I loved him in that romantic way, no I loved him as my best friend, as my brother. And now, I don't have a laughing buddy, I don't have a partner in crime.
I think everyone's worried about me, every single day, people come to see me. Just today, Hermione came laden down with food from mum. And she sat and waited for me to eat it all before she left. I would have gone and thrown it up in the bathroom after she left, but I don't even have the energy for that. I don't have the energy to smile anymore.
I can't move my lips upward into a smile anymore. I'm always frowning. I haven't laughed since Fred's been gone. I haven't even cracked a joke. What's the point? Fred won't hear it. He won't laugh with me.
I know that I'm just being a burden to every one. They have enough to worry about with out me slowly fading from their sight. I feel like I'm disappearing. It would be so much easier to fade away if people weren't hanging over me all the time. But people haven't been breathing down my neck nearly as much anymore. Lee used to come everyday, twice a day, and share memories about Fred, and try to make me laugh, but now, he only comes twice a week. Mum still comes every second day. Ginny and Harry come a few times a week. Hermione, bless her kind heart, drags Ron out every second day, and she comes each day. Every ones tried so hard, but really, they should just give up. There's no point anymore. I'm a lost cause. As far as I'm concerned, I've already left. All that's left is an empty shell of George.
I wish Fred was here. Even when I lost my ear, with Fred around, I was able to joke about it. But now, I can't. How can I joke about death, how will joking make it better? It won't. If anything, it'll just make it seem like Fred's still here, then one day, I'll finally open my eyes and see that he's gone, and he has been forever, and then it'll be like he's dieing all over again.
Life is unfair. I hate life. Honestly, it's like I'm not even here anymore, it's like I'm just watching it all from above. I don't care anymore. I never will care again. I wish everyone would just forget about me already. I can see how they want to, I hear it in their hushed voices outside my doorway, I see it in their eyes, I can tell. And I wish that they just would already, it'd be easier for everyone to not have to deal with little old depressed George. I've already forgotten about myself, it's not that hard; you just have to stop caring. And that's the easiest thing to do. They shouldn't feel guilty about me wasting away, I want to, I want to shrivel up and die.
I'm a burden on them all. No one wants to come visit me, but they all feel obligated to. They feel guilty about how I'm feeling, it's not their fault. It's not anyones, except the god-damn deatheaters and their stupid 'dark lord'. Whatever. I never thought he was all that powerful.
I used to hang on for Fred. I thought that if he could see me, he'd tell me to buck up, put on a smile and go face the day. I tried to, really, I did. But it was too hard. People could tell it was all forced. Ron even told me that I looked pained when I smiled and if it was that hard I should give it up. He told me to stop thinking about everyone else and start thinking about myself. And I took his advice, not that me wasting away is his fault, he just helped me to open my eyes and realize that I would never be happy again. Don't blame yourself Ron; it's not your fault.
I feel like this old toy broomstick Fred and I used to have, we didn't have enough money for two, so we had to share it, thing was, it was Fred's favourite toy ever. I didn't really like it that much. One day, we took it outside and I was supposed to bring it in, but I forgot, that night, something happened and the next morning, it was broken in two. I tried everything to fix it, but I couldn't, eventually, I told Fred and he tried to help. We couldn't even fix it together. We never showed mum, afraid that she'd get mad. I'm at the point, where even if Fred was here, we couldn't fix me. I am broken. And even together, we couldn't fix me, alone I know I can't. There's no point anyway. I don't want to be stuck on this cruel, heartless world anyway. I can't see the love anymore.
Everything is falling apart. My life is in shambles, and I know I'm causing tension between everyone. Mum and Dad, Hermione and Ron, Ginny and Harry, everyone is fighting, and it's all because of me. I don't deserve to live anymore. I'm driving a wedge between everyones chance at happiness. I can't do that. I can't. I won't let me.
I haven't been out of bed for a long time, so it'll probably take some time for me to climb down those stairs, but I know I'll manage, maybe I'll fall down and it'll all be over with sooner.
So, in a way, I guess this is my goodbye note. I'm sure that Fred and I have something lethal from when we used to mix potions together. Preferably, I die a slow and painful death, I know I deserve it.
Cheers to all.
I'll miss you,
But try to love eachother, Forever.
George Weasley.
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Author's Note – Haven't posted for a while, wrote this a looong time ago. Whatevs. Read it, and if you enjoyed, or just want to comment on it, please review. Ta-Ta!