He couldn't help it. The feelings were over-whelming. They were taking over his mind and pulling him into a pit of unhappiness. Much like before. Much like the many other times this had happened. He found himself wanting to reach out to the razor blades. His choice of weapon. He couldn't though. It was his promise. The promise that was driving him insane. He couldn't cope without his own pain. The pain not caused from outside effects. Pain caused by himself. Pain which he controlled pulling him to reality instead of the sidelines.
He watched others in pain listened to their hurt, their pain but yet could never explain his own. He sometimes felt so alone in the world. Felt no one understood but he knew that was his mind talking. People went through the same things. He heard from there own mouths. He listened sometimes, especially when it was one of his really good friends, he would hurt for them. One was going through problems with his family. Another was going through anorexia. Then one was just plain miserable. They hurt him too. He wrapped everyone's pain around himself in a tight blanket. It kept him warm during his long sleepless nights.
His thoughts kept him company when he went on long midnight walks. The darkness where he could let out some of his emotions without anyone knowing. His tears would never be seen by the harsh daytime sun. Never. There wasn't even a chance of it. Not after tonight. Not after all his blood had been spilt. He had to break the promise... He could no longer go on…
The blade slid over his wrists easily enough. He slipped into the full bathtub fully clothed. Water spilled over the edges. It didn't bother him. He wouldn't have to clean it up. Much like he wouldn't have to clean up after the big war. It wasn't his war anyway. He was just slung into the battle much like everyone else. He pulled the blade over his arms a few more times, loving the sensations it sent him. His control.
Red swirled around with the water making him smile slightly. He felt tired and slid back. He could no longer keep conscious and he slipped under the water which slowly drowned him until he was no longer, the haunted smile still on his lips.
No one would notice.
Who was he?
He was no one.
Just a sidekick.
He was Only Ron Wesley after all…
A/n I know I should be updating my other fictions but I just really wanted to write this. Also I know it's short but sometimes that's for the best. Some things are better when short. I will update my other fictions ASAP. Thanks for reading… Reviews? Purdy please… Tell me what you think.