Disclaimer: Characters belong to JK Rowling. I only own the plot. .
Picture With A Twist
Tonight's the night. I'm packing my life and leaving nothing behind but my reputation. I have no family, my friends left ages ago and all I have left is myself.
I hate myself for doing the things I did but I knew it was out of habit. I didn't know there was different way. I hated him more than I hated myself and that was really saying something. He was then one who messed it all up. Everyone blames me but only him and I know the truth.
When I left, I told him "let me draw you a picture. This picture's going to have a really big twist. I'll draw it with a razorblade, slicing across my wrist," because that's exactly how I felt.
Tonight, I'll end up on his doorstep, tears streaking my cheeks. I already know how this story goes. The snowflakes will fall and melt instantly when they touch my flesh. He's approaching the door and my heart begins to beat really fast. The doorknob's turning and the blood is pounding in my ears. My stomach's dropped about twenty feet and my heart's in my throat. He finally opens the door.
"Hermione?"
R&R please!