AN: Deathfic. Bit angsty. Don't own the characters. Err, review and I'll review one of your fics. (Me = bad, bribing-type person – oops.)
A couple of days before he died, George asked me to go flying with him. I refused, because I had to do something irrelevant and stupid. Now I wish I hadn't denied him that one last flight, because now he's dead and I regret every stupid or hurtful thing I ever said to him.
Apparently, I've been acting like a zombie for the past couple of weeks. But, quite honestly, what else do they expect me to do? Act like everything's okay? Do they want me to pretend that I'm not hurting? Well, I've tried and I've tried, but I just don't know what to do with myself. I need someone to help me, someone to tell me how to act, because what do you do when half of yourself has been ripped away?
It was so abrupt. One day he was there and the next day he wasn't and then they all expected me to cope with it as if nothing had happened. Only I couldn't, because everything had changed. Nothing was the same, and no one realised what it was like. I know they were all hurting as well, but not as much as me. No one could be hurting as much as me, because they'd be dead by now. I may as well be dead. I've thought about topping myself, actually, but then I thought that he probably wouldn't want me to. There's something horribly selfish about taking my own life when his was torn away from him like that. How dare I not want my life when he hasn't got his, when he fought and he yelled and he grabbed at the shreds of his until his fingernails were too torn to grip anymore? And here I am, being selfish enough to want to give mine up willingly.
Everywhere where he was, the memories of him hurt too much and I have to turn away, but when I reach a place where there are no memories I break all over again because I realise with a jolt that he's not there, and he never will be. People say that when their loved ones die they can still feel them with them, but I can't. He's gone forever and that hurts so much.
Have you ever thought about just how long 'forever' is, and just how final death is? I never did until he died, but now I can't stop thinking about it. I have to live my entire life without him, and it seems so long that I don't know if I'll be able to cope. 'Forever' means just that, foreverandeverandeveramen. It means that I'll never see him smile again. I'll never get to hug him again, and I'll never think up another trick with him. I have to open the joke shop every day by myself. He always used to open the doors as I unlocked the cash register, and now I'm going to have to do it all alone.
Our mother used to say that with us, one soul was shared between two bodies. That means that now half of me has been ripped away. I don't know how I'm going to cope without half of me. I'm already starting to weaken, but I refuse, I bloody refuse to give in. The gods of death took him, they're not having me as well, isn't that too selfish of them to want both of us?
They all told me that they realise how much I love him and miss him (even though they DON'T realise), and they say that eventually I'm going to have to let go, they say that I have to learn to live without him. They have a point, but it hurts so much to live without him, because he was my twin, he was my best friend, and he was the other half of me. But I'm going to have to learn if I want to survive on my own.
I'm on my broomstick now, and I'm going to scatter his ashes into the air so we can fly together for the very last time. And as I empty the urn and the tiny grey specks float away, I whisper into the wind.
"George, I'm not completely sure where to go without you, so you're going to have to point me in the right direction."
The wind's thick, and fast, and my broomstick suddenly swings round, pointing at the Burrow.
"You want me to go home, then? Shouldn't be that hard, I heard Mum cooked chicken. That was your favourite, wasn't it?"
Suddenly I realise something. He'll will never be truly gone, because half of him is still here, because I'm still alive, and I'll always remember him, and he'll always be here with me. I have to lay his ghost to rest if I want to have any semblance of a normal life.
My voice gets quieter as I soar towards home. "Night, George. Sleep tight."