I hope you like it; I wrote it based on a true story. I wrote it after my girlfriend killed herself. This isn't anything like how she died, but it's kinda what I had wanted to do.
I own none of the characters, they belong to J.K. Rowling, the only thing I own is the plot.
I barricade myself in my room; I don't know what's going on with me. I'm scared and confused; this isn't like me. I never admit to myself to fear; I never give in to temptation. Why did I do it? If I don't give in to temptation; why did I? The tears flow through my eyes, falling on my pillow as I cry. I told her I love her, I shouldn't have. Now she hates me
The cold steel of the blade I hold in my hand slices through my skin, my palm cutting open and the blood running down my wrist. It's like the pain doesn't matter anymore; like it's not even there, just the warm blood that drips off my elbow and onto my red sheets.
The faded-red color of the sheets becomes stained with the dark red liquid. Now the pain kicks in as I trace the knife down to my wrist; carving the name of the one who torments me every night into my forearm. My screams are heard by no one as I cry out; almost as if I'm calling for help – help from myself. I holler for someone to save me; I think this is it. I can't stop the bleeding. I grab the phone; tell who I love she got her wish. I'll soon be dead. She begs me not to do it, apologizes saying she was scared and confused. I do it anyway. I sing Whistle Dixie and I place the phone down, my sobs distorting my voice. I picked up the phone again, told her that I didn't regret a single minute with her, that still even in death I'd still love her for all she did; all she is. She screams and cries she loves me, but was too scared to admit it.
I faintly yell no, regretting my suicide. I want to be with her, or atleast have her here for my last moments.
Everything goes black.
The name carved into my arm is the reason for my suicide.
Ginny.
No more shall I have to deal with the pain. I say goodbye to this world, my old life, my old friends. I'll meet everyone again sooner or later. Either way, I'll see everyone in Heaven. Or Hell…
My name is Hermione Granger and I love Ginny Weasley and she had wished to never see me again. She got her wish, for now I'm gone for good.
"Everybody whistle Dixie/when they lay me in the ground/when that cold wind comes to get me/I don't want nobody standin' 'round/sheddin' tears/and feelin' sorry/'cause I've gone to see my God/everybody whistle Dixie/ let 'em lay me 'neath the sod..."
Review please. I got some reviews before I revised this saying it needed more description and explanation on why Hermione commited suicide. Well; I did. Make me feel better by reviewing this, it killed to revise this. Nothing hurts more then taking a trip to the past and being reminded of the pain... By the way, my friend asked me to spread the word about her website. She's a way better writer then me (atleast I think so). Go to my fanfiction page, it'll be on there.