Pretending Brought Her End
Fred Wealsey x OC
Hey so this is for Emmasexual's 'What We Pretend To Be Challenge' I choose easy, which is where I choose the pairing myself and Emma got to choose if it was happy or sad. (She choose sad)
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"We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be." - Kurt Vonnegut
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Warnings: there is depression, self-harm, and suicide in this story. These themes mean a lot to me and I would appreciate it if you don't critize me on the dierection I went for this.
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They thought she wasn't afraid of anything, but that wasn't true. The way that she acted led them to believe it though, and started to as well. But late at night, things came back to haunt her. The things that she kept buried away deep inside her. She wrote everything she was afraid of, this book had all of her secrets, all of her fears that no one knew she had.
It got harder and harder to write them down. 'What if someone finds this? What if they read it?' She would think as she held the book, thinking of everyone as a suspect for a crime that hadn't never been committed. But that was a long time ago. Now she dealt with her fears in a different way.
There was only one person that she ever considered letting the mask slip away in front of. She never did of course, but she considered it. During those rare moments that they were alone, she considered it, considered letting Fred see the real her. But, once again, she was scared.
She didn't want them to see the real her. So she started to distance herself from everyone. Heading straight to bed instead of sticking around for parties after they won a Quiditch match. Stopped hanging out with the twins. She even went so far as to ignore her friends when they talked to her. They had noticed of course, but after getting an 'I'm fine.' for the millionth time, they stopped asking. They slowly stopped speaking to her. And before she even knew it, Bree didn't really care.
She didn't feel anything anymore. She didn't feel happy, sad, angry. She just felt numb. As if nothing in the world mattered anymore. At meals, Bree started to eat alone. Then, she stopped eating all together. Finally, she just stopped going to meals. She quit the Quiditch team with out warning. She stopped doing homework, staying silent and staring at the desk as Professor Snape yelled at her for the forth time that week. Bree just didn't care anymore as she got detention after detention. She felt nothing, as if all feeling had just disappeared from inside of her.
Right after quitting the Quiditch team, she had slipped into Moaning Mrtyle's bathroom and dragged a knife across her wrist. It hurt. A lot. But it gave her something to feel. She watched as the blood dripped to the floor. She did it again, a small smile on her face for the first time in months as she leaned her head back on the wall. She did it almost everyday after that.
She entered the common room one night, returning from Mrtyle's bathroom, Fred was waiting for her. "What's going on with you?" He asked her. "W-what do you mean?" She asked quietly. "You know exactly what I mean Bree! You haven't been speaking to us, you haven't been eating, what's going on?" "Nothing's going on Fred! I-I've just been tired, alright?" Fred stepped towards her, his arms crossed. "Bree, you've shut yourself off from everyone, you need to tell me what's going on, please." Bree glared at him for a moment. "Fred, I told you, I. Am. Fine. Stop worrying about me! I just want to be left alone alright!" She was yelling now. "Bree I'm not going to leave you alone! You're scaring me, I've never seen you like this before!" Fred was yelling too now.
Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him, putting her bag down on the table. "Why can't you accept that I just don't feel like talking?" She snapped, her voice hoarse. "Or eating, or doing homework, or playing Quiditch." Fred snapped back at her. "Just drop it Fred, leave me alone." She growled, pushing past him. She froze when he grabbed her wrist, a pained look on her face when he squeezed to tightly. He pushed up her sleeve and let out a gasp when he saw the scars on her wrist. "Bree." He whispered, looking at her. By now, she had pulled out her wand and pointed it at him. "I know what I'm doing Fred, stay out of it." She wore a dark expression, green hair turning a bright red, letting Fred know that he crossed a line. "I don't want to talk, just stay away." With that, she stormed out.
She didn't wait to get to the bathroom. Bree flopped down onto the floor right beside the common room entrance, biting her lip as a tear slipped down her cheek. She cut deeper then before, eyes widening as blood started to pour from her wrist. She started to get a bit lightheaded, but a smile was on her face. Her vision starting to blur as she cut even deeper into her skin. "B-Bree." Fred whispered, eyes wide and filled with fear. She looked up at him, dropping the knife and staring down at the blood. "W-what are you-"
That's when Bree passed out. Small smile on her face. Fred quickly leaned down and picked her up, heading to the Hospital Wing.
She awoke a week later, feeling to weak to move, Bree just stared up at the ceiling with a blank look on her face. She completely ignored anyone that tried to talk to her. Staring at Hermione blankly as she cried over her. Showing no emotion as Fred sat at her bedside, holding her hand.
"Bumble Bee, you listening?" She glanced at him. "Of course, Freddie boy." she whispered, turning her head to look at him full on. "Bree," he whispered, noticing that her eyes were blank. "Why didn't you let me help you?" She smiled at him slightly "I do know what I'm doing." she replied, pulling her hand out of his.
She continued to shut herself off after that. The biggest concern was that one day, she just disappeared. Bree wasn't in her bed when the girls woke up. She wasn't at breakfast. She wasn't in her classes. She disappeared for the rest of the week. It was Sunday when she finally showed up again. She looked, different. Her hair was now jet black, almost matching Harry's own hair, except it was straight, and cut into a sort of pixie cut, the front of it covering her eyes. Her eyes seemed to be covered in shadow as she walked. Bree kept her hands in her jean pockets as she walked through the Great Hall, which had fallen silent when she entered.
Bree sat down beside Hermione, across from Ron. "Bree?" Harry asked, staring at her. "Are you alright?" She nodded in reply, looking up at him. "I'm fine." Slowly, a moment later, she started to stand again. "Where are you going?" Hermione asked, putting a hand on Bree's arm. "You just got here." Ron added, staring up at her. "I just came to tell you good-bye." Hermione's eyes widened as Bree turned away. Her sleeve had ridden up a bit and Hermione saw the scars.
Back in the common room, Bree took a deep breath and looked at the bottle in her hand. Glancing at the door, she smiled slightly, dragging the knife across each wrist one last time. She slowly poured the pills one by one into her hand, a wide grin on her face.
Two: get rid of a head ache.
Four: get rid of a stomach ache.
Whole bottle: get rid of yourself.
"We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be." She swayed a bit, her vision starting to turn black. Taking a step towards Hermione and Fred who had entered the room, she fell to her knees. "Good-bye." she whispered as she fell to the side, a childish smile on her face. "Bree!" And it was over.