Title: Torn to pieces

Character(s): George W, Angelina J.

Summary: Was he supposed to feel like this? Was George meant to have gone this silent? This withdrawn? One-shot George-centric

Notes: It's my birthday tomorrow! Wahoo! Back to the matter at hand, this is part of the 'Random Songs Challenge' and when I was given the pairing George & Angelina with the song 'How to save a life' by 'The fray' this instantly came to mind. I know it's not that long, but I hope you like it! Reviews are appriciated, Take care!


Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

Was he supposed to feel this way? Was he supposed to feel as if he'd been torn apart into tiny pieces, then crushed and stomped on afterwards? Was he supposed to be this broken inside?

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

The two trins who had once been conjoint by the hip - never seen without the other - where no longer tied with eachother. Was life supposed to have gone this way? The two pranksters no longer there? Was it supposed to have gone like this, one of the two weasley twins dead - and the other just as good as dead.

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

Was George meant to have gone this silent? Was he supposed to have become this depressed? This withdrawn? Was he meant to avoid every object that threatened to let him see his reflection, due to the fear of seeing his identical twin there, through the cracks?

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

Why couldn't his family understand that how much he wanted Fred back, how he didn't want to talk to them because he wanted to be alone? More importantly, why couldn't they understand that he couldn't live without his twin. Without his twin, his brother - his best friend.

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

Can't live without him - may aswell die with him, right? What was the muggle term when someone tried to kill themselves off? George couldn't even remember that - clouds of depression blocking all of his thoughts. Wait...he remembered now... suicide - the cowards way out. He wasn't sure how he could go on anymore - and to be honest, George was more of a coward now more than ever...

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

He has a note ready on his bedside table, the photo of him and his brother Fred placed down on his bedside table, so he won't back out, and his wand at the ready. He's about to cast the spell when there's a knock at the door.

He doesn't want to talk, but he anwsers anyway, with a weary, "What?"

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

He barely realises how his voice crackles or how sore it is, he is too numb to take notice. He doesn't realise how miserable he sounds, but his visitor seems to, and so they open the door, sitting next to George on his bed, in a reknown silence - niether knowing what to say to the other.

"I'm sorry about what happened," His visitor - Angelina Johnson - breaks the silence, "I know you must feel so bad, I do too - but you'll get through it - I promise. Because I'll be here for you."

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

They fall back into silence again, and George places his wand on the bedside table, before breaking down into tears, sobbing as he cries,

"I m-miss him s-so much Angie. I j-just can't believe he's g-gone!"

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

Was it supposed to feel like this? Was he supposed to feel as if he'd had his soul ripped out from his chest, and then burnt at a stake right infront of his eyes? Was he supposed to feel this broken?


Yes. Yes he was.