To the people who don't care about me,
I don't know how long you kept it, letting me think you were my friends, letting me believe you wanted to help me. I don't know how long it went on, my facade, not letting anyone see my misery. I left you hints of course. You really have no Ravenclaw in you, Harry and Ginny and no Hufflepuff, Ron. You aren't smart. You aren't kind and caring. I really wanted you to see my hints. To force me to tell you what was wrong. But you didn't. You let me put pressure on myself. Don't worry mum and dad, you didn't care how I did. But I cared. I piled on the pressure. Anything less than 100% was a fail. I failed almost every test I did. I cried every night. I couldn't get to sleep. Everyone dismissed the dark circles under my eyes. I got no more than 5 hours sleep a night and no one cared. None of you care about me. None of you worried that there might be something wrong with me. No one cared. I'm only just holding on because I'm not a true Gryffindor. I'm fucking scared of pain. Oh yes, mum and dad, I'm far more dirty minded than you think. I particularly told you, Ron, that I had a secret. You were too good a friend and let me have my privacy. It was too nice of you. You should have asked me. I wouldn't be feeling the weight of those would feel so much better to talk. But I know I won't. I don't smile anymore. I wonder if anyone's noticed. Sure, I put up a facade. I seem happy. But I wish you'd look harder. See the cracks. The pressure getting to me. I wish it was as easy as Avada Kedavra.