The Shadow
By: Rosa Nicole
Dear Mum,
This is Ron. I was your second-to-last child. Remember me? I'm the one with the red hair. Oh, wait a minute. We all have red hair. Maybe you'll know me by the sullen expression that's been on my face for the past 3 years. I just saw a light-bulb turn on above your head. So you do think. That's really hard to believe.
Remember last 2 Christmas' ago? When I came home from Hogwarts? We all came home. I got you that necklace. The silver one, with the angel charm. I spent everything I owned on that necklace. You got me a maroon sweater. I have told you so many times that I hate maroon. You never listened. I never really minded your cheap homemade gifts, but I would have thought that you would be open to suggestions on how to make them better. You shouldn't have had 7 kids if you weren't going to listen to them. I always listened to you. I tried to be everything you wanted me to be. But I'm no Harry Potter. I'm his shadow. I'm the mere essence of a pathetic boy who follows him around. I do whatever he tells me, because you said that the famous Harry Potter is never wrong. Guess what? He was wrong about me. He thought that I would always be one of the good guys.
I guess that's what provoked me to join the dark side. I am no ones shadow now. I'm my own person. I make my own dreams. Nobody ever thought I would amount to anything. They'd look at me and think, "Poor shy, pathetic Ron, he'll never do anything worthwhile with his life." Guess what? They were wrong too. Everyone was wrong about me. In a family of seven, no one ever thought I would be the first to do something. Maybe I will be the first to die. I see visions of you standing over my casket. Looking down onto my pale, freckled, face. I imagine you thinking, "I should have listened to Ron. I could have talked him out of this."
You didn't read the signs dear mother. You thought my depression was hormones. You thought my anger was normal. You didn't question the scars on my wrist. You never cared. Or maybe you never noticed. I would pay closer attention to my other 6 six children if I were you. You don't want them to end up like me. You don't want them to end up like Ron, the pathetic shadow that died first.
Luv always- Ronnie
By: Rosa Nicole
Dear Mum,
This is Ron. I was your second-to-last child. Remember me? I'm the one with the red hair. Oh, wait a minute. We all have red hair. Maybe you'll know me by the sullen expression that's been on my face for the past 3 years. I just saw a light-bulb turn on above your head. So you do think. That's really hard to believe.
Remember last 2 Christmas' ago? When I came home from Hogwarts? We all came home. I got you that necklace. The silver one, with the angel charm. I spent everything I owned on that necklace. You got me a maroon sweater. I have told you so many times that I hate maroon. You never listened. I never really minded your cheap homemade gifts, but I would have thought that you would be open to suggestions on how to make them better. You shouldn't have had 7 kids if you weren't going to listen to them. I always listened to you. I tried to be everything you wanted me to be. But I'm no Harry Potter. I'm his shadow. I'm the mere essence of a pathetic boy who follows him around. I do whatever he tells me, because you said that the famous Harry Potter is never wrong. Guess what? He was wrong about me. He thought that I would always be one of the good guys.
I guess that's what provoked me to join the dark side. I am no ones shadow now. I'm my own person. I make my own dreams. Nobody ever thought I would amount to anything. They'd look at me and think, "Poor shy, pathetic Ron, he'll never do anything worthwhile with his life." Guess what? They were wrong too. Everyone was wrong about me. In a family of seven, no one ever thought I would be the first to do something. Maybe I will be the first to die. I see visions of you standing over my casket. Looking down onto my pale, freckled, face. I imagine you thinking, "I should have listened to Ron. I could have talked him out of this."
You didn't read the signs dear mother. You thought my depression was hormones. You thought my anger was normal. You didn't question the scars on my wrist. You never cared. Or maybe you never noticed. I would pay closer attention to my other 6 six children if I were you. You don't want them to end up like me. You don't want them to end up like Ron, the pathetic shadow that died first.
Luv always- Ronnie