Harry Potter sat on the edge of the astronomy tower, a knife in his hand.
My legs are dangling off the edge,
The bottom of the bottle is my only friend,
I think I'll slit my wrists again and I'm gone, gone, gone, gone.
He looked down at the glinting medal in his hand; looking over at his other hand where the revolver was held.
My legs are dangling off the edge,
A stomach full of pills didn't work again,
I'll put a bullet in my head and I'm gone, gone, gone, gone.
He thought back on all of his years with the Dursleys, how he suffered so much pain at their hands. Remembering times when he thought he was indestructible because he hadn't died. Until one day Vernon had told him he needed him alive, only to be a slave.
When you were young, you never thought you'd die,
Found that you could but too scared to try,
You looked in the mirror and you said goodbye,
Climb to the roof to see if you could fly.
He stood up on the ledge, putting the knife and gun down next to the note he had placed. He closed his eyes and let his feet move, until the point he fell off of the solid brick below him, soaring to the ground.
When they found his note the next day after finding his body they cried. Not bothering to think that maybe harry had done the same every night for the past 14 years. They didn't care or think about all the pain he went through, they cried because their savior had died, before he could do his job.
"I wish that I could fly, way up in the sky,
Like a bird so high,
Oh I might just try,
I wish that I could fly, way up in the sky,
Like a bird so high,
Oh I might just try,
Oh I might just try…
-HJP"