Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. I do not own anything, and I don't make money off of this.
Suicide is not the answer
Ron knew his family very well.
There was Bill. He was the oldest. Mum and Dad always cared for him, asking about his day and his life and all that. He was smart, too, being Head Boy and going to be a Curse Breaker. And he was a cool kid. Ron wished he could be like Bill. Cool and smart and loved.
There was Charlie. Charlie was unique and fun, second oldest. Mum and Dad cared for him too, just like Bill. He loved dragons, devoting his entire life to them. He was kind and he was talented and he was a Quidditch Captain. Ron wished he could be like Charlie. Talented and unique and loved.
There was Percy. Percy was seen as a swot, but Ron admired him. He was smart and had really good grades and he didn't care that no one else agreed with his goals, he just kept pressing forward to achieve them. He taught Ron chess. He was a bit like Ron, always picked on. But he was better than Ron. He had perseverance and patience and intelligence and Ron wished he could be like Percy.
There was Fred and George. They were usually considered as halves of a whole, but he knew that they were still their own people. He wondered if the twins knew he could tell them apart. They were the cool kids, never bending to pressure and expectations. They were fun and creative and everyone loved them. Ron wished he could be like the twins. Ron wished he wasn't so weak that he didn't bend.
But he always did.
There was Ginny. She was so amazing. The only girl in a pile of brothers and she excelled, brave and kind and she went through so much but came out alive and better. She was bold and courageous and fiery. She never let anyone down in any aspect of her personality. Everyone loved her for that. Ron wished he could be like Ginny.
There was his Mum, Molly Prewett-Weasley. She had gotten everything she wanted, and he wasn't a part of that. She loved Bill and Charlie, her first sons, and Percy achieved success to all her expectations. She loved the twins even when she didn't seem like it, especially because they were like her late twin brothers, Fabian and Gideon. She had always wanted a daughter, and she got Ginny, and it made her so happy. But Ron did not contribute to her happiness. Oh, he was sure there was a part of her that loved him, but it was teensy in comparison to the rest of them.
There was his Dad, Arthur Weasley. He had his eccentricities and his hobbies that many people judged, but he didn't care. Ron was pretty sure his muggle objects and ideas were his greatest love. He was the last one in line in that list. He didn't shout or yell or have an easy-to-lose temper but he never broke to anyone, always defending himself and his family.
There was Harry and Hermione. They were practically part of the family. He knew that everyone loved them more than him. Oh, Harry, went through all the trauma and became the hero and saved the world. No, Ron wasn't jealous. He knew that Harry didn't want it. All he wanted was the family and the love that Ron could never get. And Hermione was so smart and nice and just… incredible. She did so much for everyone, more than Ron could ever do. Ron wished he could be like Harry and Hermione.
He wished he could be like Bill and Charlie and Percy and Fred and George and Ginny and Harry and Hermione, wished he could be just as loved by Mum and Dad and the rest of the world. But that would never be part of his story. He would always be there in their minds and hearts, existing. But never surviving.
He had already had Pig and Hedwig heading to deliver his letters to all of them. This was how he would be remembered. This was where he could be more than the best friend of the Boy-Who-Lived or the best friend of the Brightest Witch of Her Age, or the brother of whichever of his siblings everyone knew, or his parents's son. It would not be the best friend or the brother or the son who jumped off the Astronomy Tower with dozens of cuts scarring his arms.
It would be Ron Weasley. The boy who deserved to suffer, and didn't deserve the mercy of death, but just couldn't care anymore.
He looked up at the glistening stars in the sky, and tumbled out the window.
Those stars were the last thing he saw before everything turned into black nothingness. What a fitting way to die.