Here it is, my depressing piano fanfiction. I don't own Harry Potter, and I'm not suicidal, I just wrote this because I was craving some yummy "Depressed Harry" goodness. Enjoy!
C Sharp, E, G, F Sharp, A, B.
It's amazing how a few simple notes can do what no one else can.
When I'm caught up in a melody, the few wisps of sound that float by can pull me from the dark abyss that is my mind.
Then...
Pain.
Breaking Glass.
The empty, hollow sounds of destruction are a reminder of my past.
The past plagues my mind, and as I move through the motions of life, my future wastes away.
I try not to think "what if..."
But...
Sometimes I wonder if death may have been better than the cold emptiness I'm surrounded by now.
I'm close to breaking.
Maybe I'm already broken.
The "Boy-Who-Lived-Too-Damn-Long"
The "Chosen-One-We-Don't-Want"
There isn't much left for a former hero.
All I can do is wait for the next great adventure.
But...
Until then, my piano will be my escape.
My comforter, and at the same time, my torturer.
My solace, and the thing I fear most.
My anti-drug, or possibly the drug itself.
It pulls me in, enticing and addicting at the same time.
Through the music, I release it all, and somehow trap myself at the same time.
My emotion seems to pour from the depths of the piano.
It wraps around me, suffocating, the pain begging to be felt.
But I block it out.
When I play the piano, I allow myself to slide into the recesses of my mind.
And every fiber of my body seems to scream at me.
Every note.
Every chord.
Every melody.
It all screams one thing.
"It's too late."
And there is the end of your angst-y, "almost suicidal", ex-hero Harry story. Reviews are appreciated!