Without spirit
Hi! This is my first fic in English, and the first I write in around 2 years. It's rated R because of the suicide theme, just to be safe. Hope you like it. R&R
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. The story is mine :P .
Summary: A sixteen-year-old boy reflects on his life and his feeling about it. He comes to think that he's only reason to be alive is to fight. Or maybe, it's to die. The only way out of this: suicide. Or will a certain girl and a werewolf be able to save his life?
Tragedy/Drama/Angst
What do they want? That's the only question that's in my mind every night, every time that urge to leave this world comes to me, every time I see that blade go through my wrists, every time I see my own blood, every time...
Just go away, see no one here, be alone, that's my wish. Everyone spects too much of me, and I cant give them what they want, my only dream is to have a normal life.
But I cant, my life's already prepared for me, I'm the one who everyone expects to save the world, I'm the one who will disapoint them all, I'm the one with the weight of the world on my shoulders, I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, I'm the boy who will die.
Is it too much to ask for a normal life, to be just a common boy, have a family, only have to worry about school, friends and girls, to be loved for the man I am, not for the weapon in me?
It seems it is. Ever since I remember, my life's been full of pain. People fight and die, all because of me. My only family left are the first to harm me, and the only reason other people care about me is because that stupid profecy, because they want me to defeat him.
How am I supposed to win a fight that I'm not prepared for? What if I dont want to fight? What if I dont want to helpo them? What if I only left myself die?
A shinning blade on top of my trunk might be the answer to my problems. Reflecting the moonlight that comes through the open window, it's calling my name, it wants to be used, it wants to help me with my problems, it wants to feel my skin, let me see my own blood, let me see I'm still alive, and help me die.
Harry James Potter is my name. But what is it that I am? A boy, a man, or simply a body without spirit or a weapon to destroy?
Well, here it is, the first chapter, I know it's really short, I might continue the story, this is kind of an introduction, but it all depends on your reviews, if you like it or not. Thanx. Bye!