Chapter one: Crimson Regret

Disclaimer: unfortunately, I do not own any aspects of the wonderful works of Harry Potter. But the lovely Loretta Weasley is of my creation.

Dedication: This little work of fiction here is dedicated to one of my best friends, Tina Weasley (as she prefers to be called) whom is currently obsessed with the Weasley twins. So, here ya go Ti.

A journal entry from the diary of Loretta Weasley, June 4th 2004:

How dare he! I thought I could trust him. You can't trust anyone when you're the black sheep of your family. An outcast, that's all I am. Mum and Dad can't stand me; neither can Uncle Ron, or Uncle Harry. I heard them talking once, saying they needed to do something about me. They don't like me, no one does. They'd be better off without me; in fact, I'll give them their wish.

I stole Mum's old knife with the rubies in the hilt. Its lovely scars had traced a pattern on my arms over the years. Too bad it'll be last used for this. All I have is myself, and the blade. For anyone who reads this letter, don't worry; I know you wanted this all along. Tell little Lilly, I'll miss her and give her my necklace; the one she's been after forever. Tell Devon, I hate him, and he caused this. Hope he feels like a hero now. Tell the rest of my family, so long. I bid thee good-bye, once and for all.

The letter rested on her bedside table, her wand next to it. Loretta picked up the gleaming blade in her hands, and let the silver glint in the sunlight. Quickly, hazel eyes glanced around the room. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, and plunged the knife into her chest. A small whimper emitted her thought, and then became shallow, raspy, breaths as life slipped from her grasp.

I tried to kill the pain

But only bought more...so much more

I lay dying and I'm pouring

Crimson regret and betrayal

I'm dying, praying

Bleeding and screaming

Am I too lost to be saved?

Am I too lost?

All of this and more swarmed through her head, her last thoughts as her breathing started to slow. She was the one Weasley who dared to be different, to live on the edge.

My wounds cry for the grave

My soul cries for deliverance.

Will I be denied?

Christ, tourniquet

This is Loretta's story.

My suicide...

A/n: Its more like a prologue, and I'm not that good at writing suicide letters, so don't sue me. Now press that little button on your screen that says 'review' and write thousands of good things about it! D notice how I snuck the lyrics to "Tourniquet" by Evanescence up on ya? ;D