Dear Whoever,
Life sucks. Well at least mine
does. I hate my life. Yes, I Hermione Granger hate my life. But does anyone
care? One word: no. No one cares, all they see is perfect, know-it-all Hermione
Granger. Well, screw being perfect. I hate it. I hate having to be so damn
perfect, and for what? For recognition? So my parents can brag that their
daughter is top of her class in her "exclusive boarding school"? I hate rules.
Always having to abide by stupid rules just because I'm a "disappointment" if I
mess up just once.
I'm an outsider because of it. In all reality I have no
friends. Sure there's Harry and Ron but it's like they don't see me anymore.
It's all about Quidditch, girls, and all the other "manly" crap they talk about.
It's always "Yeah, we're the best of friends" but then something comes along
and I'm left in the dirt. Sure they notice later, later usually being when they
need help on homework because I'm "smart, reliable Hermione who will always
help her friends in need!" What a load of crap. They probably don't like me
because I'm not a giggling ditz like Lavender or Parvati. See now they have to
keep their reputations up, they can't be seen with a bookworm like me.
And Harry. Oh, Harry. In all the years I have known him I've
loved him, but does he notice? Does he give a damn? No, it's all about Cho
Chang! Oh, correction it's also about Ginny Weasley. You see he can't decide
between Cho and Ginny so who does he go to for advice? Me. He is so blind to
not see how wrong they are for him and how right I am. I'm not saying it to be
cocky or anything, the fact is it's truth. But I'm not pretty enough, or
girlish, or ditzy or whatever the hell guys look for.
I'm screaming. On the outside I keep a level temper and cool
façade but on the inside I want to beat the shit out of anyone and everything
that crosses my path. What's the matter? Not used to my cussing? Well this is
the real Hermione; you know the one you never took the time to understand? The
one you just brushed aside like a used, worn, rag doll? Yep, my life sucks.
You see when my parents aren't parading me around to all
their snotty friends, trying to prove their "model parents who have raised a
darling daughter" their shipping me off all over the place trying to get rid of
me. I cramp their style you see. They can't go to parties and drown themselves
in all the false glitz and glamour while at the same time drowning themselves
in alcohol when they know they have to come home and face me. See, my parents
aren't stupid. They know if I'm home when they come home completely intoxicated
it's trouble. We always fight, if I tick them off when their smashed they might
do some things they'll regret. When I was seven I remember, my mother and
father had just had a fight. Funny really, my mother was having an affair with
one of her patients. My dad found out and they got into a fight that involved
crying, cussing, projectiles being hurled at my dad, and a hell of a lot of
yelling. I was sitting at the top of the stairs listening to the entire thing.
After about twenty minutes my dad left and my mother stumbled to the liquor
cabinet and just began to gulp it all down. An hour later my dad still wasn't
back yet so I went down to ask my mother where he was. Big mistake. She was
spilled onto the couch just looking awful amid the clutter littering the floor
after the heated argument. You would have thought the house had been ransacked.
When I asked her where my dad was she just snapped and started hitting me. My
father came back and stopped her from killing me, not out of love though. Out
of fear of getting into trouble. Now they send me places and give me a ton of
money to shut me up.
Oh what fun. You're seeing the darker side of me. Well don't
get used to it, I don't plan on living much longer anyway. Yup, that's right,
the whole point of me telling you this is so that when you find me dead you'll
understand exactly why. But I don't expect you to care. It's not like the world
needs Hermione Granger anyway. So here I go, committing suicide. Never expected
that one did you? At least not from me. Well, I guess you just don't know me,
and you never will. So as they say in America, "laterz!"
Hermione Anne Granger
With that Hermione Granger folded up the letter and stuck
it in her pocket. 'They'll search my pocket anyway' she thought. Carefully
stepping onto the edge Hermione looked down and saw the ground so many feet
below her, closing her eyes with a wicked smile on her face she stepped of her
spot on the Astronomy Tower. Falling silently she thought 'The landing will be
a bitch'.
"Hey
Ron, did you hear that?" Harry asked looking up from his butterbeer and other
assorted junk food stuffs that lay before him with one arm around Parvati and
the other around Ginny.
"I
can't hear anything over the bloody music!" Ron practically yelled back
commenting on the music that played at their makeshift party in the Great Hall.
He himself had his arms around Lavender and Cho. (All the houses, even
Slytherin, had been "invited")
"Really?
It sounded like sounded like a crash or something. Oh well, never mind." Both
Harry and Ron returned to partying, Hermione being far from their minds.
Hours
later, they would find Hermione's bloodied body amongst a pile of garden tools,
rocks, and flowers after having landing in the garden dying sad and alone.
Author's
Note and Disclaimer: Well that was an uplifting story wasn't it? I'm in a dark
depressing mood right now. Why did I write this? Because I'm ticked off that I
work really hard on stories, trying to make it perfect just to impress you
people only to find that no one takes the time to review. Anyway I don't own anything.
