Disclaimer: HP belongs to JK Rawling, I just borrowed it for a bit, and
will return it after the test drive! Thanks.
If your reading this I hope it doesn't depress you too much, I was thinking about Fred and George and came up with this rather brutal idea, sorry!
How?
The war is over, so much blood, so much madness, so many losses, how could they say we won? How can so many good people die and yet still they celebrated! How dare they? How could they? I thought they were friends, can't they hear me screaming? Can't they hear me dying?
How am I supposed to live now? I hate them all; their eyes full of pity, their platitudes are wasted, sorry! Sorry! Sorry for what? Did they kill him? Did they know him? Did they ever see him? They can still see him, every time they look at me, what am I supposed to do?
How can it get any easier? For them maybe. But for me, I will always see his face, every time I look in the mirror, Every time I shave. Every time I brush my hair. Every time I wash my hateful disgusting face. How I wish I could rip it off, his face, my face!
My beloved twin! How will I live as half a person? I am only half of a pair, only one of the twins; they're not even sure which one of us died! Only mother knows for sure, she wants to hold me; it brings him back, but what about me? Will she ever be holding me? Will she always think of him?
What am I supposed to do now?
If your reading this I hope it doesn't depress you too much, I was thinking about Fred and George and came up with this rather brutal idea, sorry!
How?
The war is over, so much blood, so much madness, so many losses, how could they say we won? How can so many good people die and yet still they celebrated! How dare they? How could they? I thought they were friends, can't they hear me screaming? Can't they hear me dying?
How am I supposed to live now? I hate them all; their eyes full of pity, their platitudes are wasted, sorry! Sorry! Sorry for what? Did they kill him? Did they know him? Did they ever see him? They can still see him, every time they look at me, what am I supposed to do?
How can it get any easier? For them maybe. But for me, I will always see his face, every time I look in the mirror, Every time I shave. Every time I brush my hair. Every time I wash my hateful disgusting face. How I wish I could rip it off, his face, my face!
My beloved twin! How will I live as half a person? I am only half of a pair, only one of the twins; they're not even sure which one of us died! Only mother knows for sure, she wants to hold me; it brings him back, but what about me? Will she ever be holding me? Will she always think of him?
What am I supposed to do now?