Assignment 4, Women's History task 9: Write a diary!fic
Word Count: 602
Warning: depression and suicide
10 May, 1998
Dad says this is supposed to help. I don't see how.
The funeral was yesterday. I wish I could have avoided it. Does that make me a bad person? It's just… Well, I don't want to remember Colin like that. He wasn't some cold, stiff boy in a coffin, but that's all I can see when I close my eyes now.
He was alive and bold, and it isn't fair. I just want my brother back.
11 May, 1998
Does it ever stop hurting, journal? All I can do is stare at these blue walls, and it makes everything worse. I hate blue, but Colin convinced me to paint them. Dad was mad when he saw the mess, but he still let us have some chocolate before dinner.
Blue is supposed to be a calming color. Maybe that's why Colin liked it so much. He always made me feel calmer. I don't even have that now.
I don't know what to do. Dad thinks I don't hear him crying at night, but I do. I wish could tell him that everything will be okay.
I wish I could believe it too.
14 May, 1998
I'm losing my mind. I miss him so much.
15 May, 1998
Dad brought me Colin's camera today. Colin would want the photos developed, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it.
The film is from our time on the run. Even when we were running and trying to stay alive, Colin still found beauty in the world. I wonder what he would see now?
The world is broken. We're trying to fix it, but it feels so hopeless. Colin would see the good in it, though. He'd see the people coming together to repair a castle wall, and he'd talk about the kindness of humanity.
I can't see it that way. The world has been so dark lately. Colin helped me see the light before, but there's nothing but shadows now.
18 May, 1998
The nightmares are back. I'm scared and cold, and when I woke up, Colin wasn't there to comfort me.
19 May, 1998
Is there any point in trying, journal? Things don't get better.
23 May, 1998
Dad keeps talking about me going back to Hogwarts. I don't think I can go back.
25 May, 1998
Harry Potter came by today. I feel bad for saying this because Colin loved him, but I hate Harry.
If Harry didn't exist, none of this would have happened. It was all between Harry and You-Know-Who! Why did my brother have to die for that bastard?
I hate him.
He said he knows what I'm going through, talked about what he's lost in the war. Should I care? I feel like I should, but I don't.
He took Colin from me.
26 May, 1998
I can't do this anymore, journal. I thought writing in you would help me heal, but it hasn't. Nothing will because I'm too broken.
This will be the last thing I ever write—not just in you, but ever.
I can't live like this anymore.
To anyone who reads this when I'm gone: I'm sorry. I swear to God I tried, but I can feel the grief in every piece of me, and I can't do this anymore.
Some things in this world are too broken to be fixed.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared. I don't know what's waiting on the other side, but I guess I'm about to find out. Sorry I couldn't be stronger.
I just want to be with Colin.
