D/C: JKR OWNS HP PPL. I MAKE NO MONEY OFF THIS I JUST HOPE PEOPLE WILL LIKE IT!
This is N-O-T NOT a songfic. Just idea'd on a song by Ashlee Simpson.
----WARNING----
DEPRESSING STORY. It does have a happy ending, but the story is SAD. Cutting, Eating disorders, depression, overall self-harm.
DONT LIKE DONT READ.
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This story is all about the Weasleys. Specifically four of them. In order of amount, least to most, Bill, Fred, and George and Ron are close, but it's a mostly Ron story.
FYI i dropped Percy. He isn't even like...alive in the story. He's just not mentioned with the rest. O.o
Uh...Enjoy! This is complete so you just gotta wait till i add it all! (shouldnt be too long.)
However, its like one thirty AM and i dont really feel like adding more tonight. so one chappie might have to suffice till morning.
- - - -
Living in the shadow
Of someone else's dream,
Trying to find a hand to hold,
But every touch felt cold to me...
- - - -
Shadowed
Ron Weasley had drastically changed in the past year. He hid it well, but underneath his skin, he was torn up. He was angry, sad, hurt, and feeling alone. Only, no one every noticed because he hid it so well. He joked and laughed. He talked with his friends and acted the same as ever. Key word-acted.
Now he had been home from Hogwarts for two weeks. Tonight at dinner his mother served her usual huge portioned meals. And like he had for the past few weeks, Ron took the smallest amount of everything and pushed it around on his plate barely eating. The thought alone repulsed him. Whenever he thought no one was looking, he would wave his wand under the table and silently disappear his food. It always went unnoticed. He always got away with it. So he thought. As he concentrated on his plate, he was unaware of the bright blue eyes glued to him, filled with pain.
Shortly, Ron excused himself from the table and run up to his bedroom. Halfway up the stairs, a dizzy spell came over him. He could barely breathe and he couldn't see well. His head pounded and he tried to shake it off. After a moment of bracing himself against the hand railing, he focused on the floor and walked to his room.
Once reaching it, he closed the door and locked it. He went to his dresser and opened the bottom drawer. Under all his cloths was a hand cloth folded in a small package. He gently took it out and tumbled it around in his hands for a moment before unfolding it. A shining knife gleamed up at him. He looked into the reflection of his eye and watched as the pupil grew larger.