Title: Death of the boy who lived
Author: cliffy-master
Disclaimer: A poem that popped into my head while I was browsing fan fiction, I own the poem, not Harry, not Sirius, not no one!
Rating: G
Warnings: suicide
Summary: Harry is depressed after Sirius's death and decides to end it all.
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Here in my last few minutes I wake,
Before my life, I will take.
Harry sat staring out his window, half his mind was telling him it was wrong, the other was telling it that he didn't care, It told him Sirius was gone, and it was his all his fault.
People we take for granted, things we use wrong
We don't know how much we need them until they are gone.
His mind flashed back to the shrieking shack, to seeing Sirius in the cave by the mountains, seeing him pull back the curtains of his mothers portrait last year. He was battling to take it; he had managed all summer through the pain and suffering.
The pain, the anger inside of me.
It can't stay any longer, it can't be.
He had come back from Hogwarts that summer, been locked in his room and aunt Petunia gave him food when uncle Vernon wasn't there. His hatred for Harry seemed stronger than ever and Dudley didn't give him a second glance.
I'm calling out, no one hears,
No one sees my tears.
He had managed to take one of the knives while preparing breakfast that morning and had it in his hand. He debated with himself and decided to do it, ignoring the voice that was screaming in his head.
I am told not to do it by my brain,
It stops when I think of seeing you again.
He put it to his wrist and sliced it, he felt the pleasure as the blood trickled down his arm then onto his bed.
The bright red blood, the great pleasure,
Surely to this, nothing can measure.
He started hacking away at it and felt himself get weaker with every slash. He slowly fell over onto his bed and with a great grin on his face and the last of is energy, took his wand, pointed it at himself and said: "Avada Kedera"
It is over and it is done,
My parents will soon be seeing their son.
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