I'm Sorry

I don't understand what is going on. Madam Pomfrey is rushing around going from the potions supply cabin and back to his bed, his clothes are red from the blood, and all I can do is wonder why I didn't notice the signs earlier.

I recall a day that I blocked from my memory around two years ago, but now it is clear to me that I should've asked what was going on, why did I ignore the blood stains on his shirt that day, I can't remember all I remember is him, sitting on his bed with red blotches, when I asked him he said it was an old shirt which had some kind of paint spilled on it. I didn't push he is my best friend why should I push him into giving me answers that I didn't want to exist?

I recall his wardrobe of hand-me-downs , it had no short-sleeves , all of his shirts covered all of his arm, even though when we were elven he mostly wore T-shirts, but when the change in his wardrobe happened I didn't ask why, I know after all that he doesn't have much.

I recall his feeling towards other people he always wanted to be more like them, he didn't want to be himself, and I didn't understand why, I mean he had everything a guy would want, and yet I never asked him why he felt this way, I was scared I'd lose his friendship, after all he is my best friend and who could live without theirs.

Now, I look at his blooded forearms and I wonder for the millionth time this day, if I asked him what's wrong? If only I searched deeper for the answers that I wanted yet feared to have, if I stayed by his side when he was feeling depressed, if only I wasn't scared that my questions would have ruined our friendship, if only…

Madam Pomfrey stopped moving, I don't know why but for some reason I have this knot in my stomach, I'm scared, I don't understand why, Madam Pomfrey had treated all three of us from near death situations nearly every year and she always succeeded, but today she has this look about her, a defeated kind of look.

She looks over at us with an unreadable gaze, "I'm sorry ," she says "but there was nothing that I could do"

Hermione's cries turn into sobs and I hold her closer to me while I stare dumbly ahead, my friend is gone, my best friend is gone, we will never be able to make fun of Trewlany anymore, no more bad mouthing Snape behind his back, no more chess contests between us, and more importantly there is nothing else that I could ever share with him again.

Hermione and I walk closer to the bed, he's lying there not moving all covered in blood, his own blood. Hermione takes out her wand and gives it a swish while muttering something under her breath and he's clean, no more blood, and no more gore. His eyes have been closed by Madam Pomfrey and I'm glad, because I really don't want to see the last emotion in his eyes, I really don't want to know if he was happy with his death of perhaps in peace with it.

Hermione goes to his side and fixes the covers to make it look like he's sleeping , and I, I don't know what to say, I don't know what to think, after all there is nothing that I could do to fix this, how can I fix this, my best friend killed himself and I didn't see it coming, why? Because I ignored all the signs, because I didn't want to believe that something like that could ever happened, after all doesn't suicide only exist in horror books.

Right now looking at my best friends face, I step closer to him and whisper in his ear, prying to whoever is up there that this will reach him, I say "I'm sorry for not being there, I'm sorry for not noticing, I'm sorry my friend, I'm sorry Ron."

A.N: Hope you liked it and please, please, please review.