Hello! I'm not really sure why I created this short, short piece of nothingness, but I did. It's my first thing published on here (obviously) so enjoy (if that is at all possible)
He's gone. He's gone and it's all that I can think about. I understand that it's difficult for everyone who knew him. A lost son, a lost brother, a lost friend. But it's not the same for me. I didn't just lose a brother. He was my best friend, partner in crime, and virtually my clone. Memories of him- of us, haunt me.
I feel pretty selfish only paying attention to his death when we knew so many others who sacrificed their lives during the battle. But it's not the same.
Fred was my second half; it's like a part of me is now dead.
I wake up every morning to his bed being empty, his belongings still scattered across the floor, in the un-orderly fashion that they always were. For a split second, I can believe that he's just woken up before me. In the kitchen sneaking filibusters into the drinks. But soon the reality sinks in, he's never coming back.
I noticed mum crying by the foot of the clock the other night. She was clutching Fred's hand, which had fallen off of the famous Weasley clock. She looked up at my hand which was pointing to lost. Dad came in to comfort her, and I heard her say that it was like both of us were gone. I couldn't agree more.
You can tell, it's just one of those life changing things that you'll never get over entirely. I know things will get better; they always do. But things will never be whole in my life again, without my twin.
Thanks for reading this pointless drabble :D