Ehehe... a deathfic. *scratches back of neck sheepishly* Nothing much to say here, except... this wasn't written with a specific character or fandom in mind. In fact, I could probably publish this in two of my favourite fandoms and it could still work. Oh wait, make that three. Or four. GAH. I should've been more specific with this. =.= Anyway, since this could really be for any pairing I fancied, and the first one the came to me was my beloved Drarry, voila. Nonexistent backstory is (somewhat) nonexistent here, so PM me if you want one.

Should I start leaving warnings? Or maybe just for this one..

Warnings: Major character death. Non-explicit (it's actually not even mentioned) violence. Angst of Anne Frank proportions (a joke with me and Beersmoo). DONE.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or whatever fandom you have in mind for this.


The surface feels sharp and rough. It scrapes against your feet when you walk, but that's not something of concern since, after all, you chose to walk barefoot on unpolished rock.

Take one step. Take another. Do you feel the wind like a slap to your face? Good.

Don't close your eyes. You need to see the last scene of the movie reel of your life.

Open your eyes. Now look around. What do you see?

(A myriad of warm colours painted onto the sky, seamlessly blending with each other. Long, streaking clouds across the panorama, nothing like those hideous puffy ones on a hot summer's day, tinted pink with an undercurrent of gold. A brown cliff, the very one you're standing on, and just below that, an orange expanse of sea that looks as still as if it were in a painting.

A sunset, basically. In your opinion, the epitome of an end.)

What place could be more fitting than this?

(It doesn't really matter to you where you choose, actually. What matters is that there's no one else here with you, no one to witness what you're about to do.)

Take one step. Take another.

How is it that you can feel so warm and so cold at the same time? (Like the setting sun casting a last layer of warmth before letting the coolness of night take over.)

Almost there…

(There are steps to this, or so you've heard; beginning with grief and ending with acceptance. Judging by the fact that you have yet to shed any tears, you haven't even entered the first stage.)

The wind has died down to a sliver of a breeze, a mere zephyr now. Your emotions (a storm that's been quietly raging inside of you, making you feel nauseous and dead and alive and everything else in between) have died down too. How strange… but somehow befitting.

(You need to have peace of mind. You need to have no regrets. Otherwise you won't be able to go through with this, and you can't, you won't have that.

You can't, you can't you can't youcan'tcan'tcan'tjuststop-)

See? Now look what you've done in your haste to get away from… (everything nothing something the people the places the thoughts the feelings the pain)…whatever it is. How many steps away from that edge (thatbeckoningedgewhydon'tyoudoitjustjump) are you now?

Don't backtrack. There's no point in it now. 'Cause if you take that one step back, or even just lift your foot in the wrong direction, you won't (be able to do this and you'd just go straight back home, make up some flimsy excuse to everyone as to why you pretty much vanished for an entire day, and continue this miserable half-life knowing hating that you didn't) go through with it.

Don't be a coward again. Remember what happened the last time you were a coward?

(Of course you remember, how could you forget the way he looked at you with those eyes pleading to just do it and get it over with because even if your aim was that little bit off and managed to kill the both of them he'd be happier dying by your hand, but no, you just had to wait for some other moment so you wouldn't have to take that risk, and besides, criminals always bluff don't they, they wait for an opportunity too no matter how long it ta-

No. No no no no no NO NONONO-)

Calm. Calm. Strive for calm.

(He lies in your arms unmoving. His breath, which was so shallow you had to practically press your cheek to his mouth to feel it, is nonexistent. You don't even think of looking at his eyes- you fear for seeing the betrayal lurking in those blank irises even though your mind should know better.

He is dead, but he still feels so warm.)

Look ahead. Take one step. Take ano


Yes, I TOTALLY meant for that thing to happen. If you know what the thing I'm talking about is.

PLEASE review.