Title: Too Little Too Late

A girl, about 16, sat in front of Black Lake, in the middle of the night. Lavender Brown, some may know her. It's freezing out, but, the brunette cannot feel the negative temperatures.

'UGLY' She writes in the snow, turning her petite fingers a purplish-blue color due the white carpet covering the grass.

Her wide eyes are searching for anyone outside at this hour, hoping someone can save her. It's eerily quiet, unfortunately, and she can hear her own heartbeat as the snow falls lightly into her hair.

'SLUT' She writes, feeling her blood begin to boil, thinking of Ginevra Weasley shouting that at her, and her heart slowly begins to break. What had she done to deserve this?

'WORTHLESS' She writes. She takes a deep breath, stands up, and takes a few steps towards the lake.

'NOBODY' She whispers, a tear rolling down her rosy cheek, printing shoe marks into the white blanket underneath her.

'ALONE' She sobs, and sticks her cold hands into her robe, groping around in the pocket, taking out a handfull of pills.

She looks at the pills, the castle, the lake, the snow, and then back at her trembling hand.

'DUMB' She says, and swallows each pill one by one, until her one full hand is empty.

She doesn't bother taking off her shoes, nor any of her clothes, and takes a step into the lake, her feet almost freezing off of her legs.

'DONE' She screams, and she screams it at least ten times. She's right, she's done. Done with bullies, done with herself, done with life.

She dives into the lake, and the pills finally begin to do their work. She doesn't even feel the pain of the freezing water. It's like one hundred knives are stabbing her at the same time.

But, she's numb.

She has fought for years.

Seconds of fighting, minutes of trying, hours of surviving.

It's like she's at the bottom of the sea, and she sees the sun shining brightly. She's out of breath and tries to swim to the surface, but thousands of people are holding her back.

It's like she's in a crowded room, screaming for help. But, nobody seems to care, nobody ever wants to listen to her, anyways.

It's like she sees the finish line, and runs towards it. But, somehow, the track is never ending, and the finish line will never be reached.

It's like all that, until now. Because now, she's the one winning. Because now, she's the one who's going to be talked about.

She reaches the surface.

People hear her screams and cries.

She passes the finish line.

Too little, too late.