I appreciate all the positive reviews I've gotten; it's nice to know that so many people like my writing.
Though one of the reviewers enlightened me as to why I haven't gotten as much exposure as Draco/Harry writers.
Secretly I really hate that pairing because, when you think about it. That's about as unrealistic you get.
Ironically so is the whole Harry Potter storyline.
"WHY ME!"
Chapter Seven
I've been wronged. I know it. I don't care if THEY don't know it. It doesn't bother me.
Liar…
OK. So what if it bothers me!
It isn't as if it matter now does it. Besides in two more days I'll be leaving this damned school, something for which I will be eternally grateful for.
However, there is one thing that ruins it all for me.
HE'S invited. And like the traitor that he is, accepted.
Bastard.
As soon as I found out I nearly screamed at my sister why she invited HIM, didn't she realize that he is…
Judas.
Of course at that point I realized that she had no idea and probably will remain ignorant about the whole ordeal for the rest of her life.
Thank god.
I can't help myself. Counting down the hours, to the seconds to the nano- seconds the moments I leave on that train. With no one to bother me.
I even have a plan, as to why I'm not going to be sitting with Hermione and Ginny along with the others.
It's such a devious plan.
Actually, it's not. But I know it will work.
I'm packing already. In the past, I've only packed within a couple of hours of leaving the castle. But lately I've been going off my usual.
In fact I overheard Seamus talking to Dean about it. Neville told them that I probably have a lot of stress with all my Prefect duties and Quidditch playing.
It took all my will power not to break off in hysterical laughter right then.
"I close my eyes
When I get too sad
I think thoughts
That I know are bad.
Close my eyes and I count to ten
Hope it's over when I open them…"
I'm humming, I know I am. I know that I sound as if I'm going insane, and guess what?
….hmm?
I am!
For the first time in my life, I truly believe that there might be something wrong with me.
I feel as though I could explode. I feel as though the world is tilting.
"I want the things that I had before
like a star wars poster on my bedroom door
I wish I could count to ten
Make everything be wonderful again…"
I can hear the others moving around the room. I don't care if they can hear the words that I am singing to myself. I, in all honesty don't care if the entire world sees me 'footloose'. I don't care that Seamus will babble to the entire Common Room that Ronald Weasley is losing his marbles.
I don't care. Because I can't.
If I allow myself, I'll break into a million pieces. And the same incident that happened during summer will happen again and again….
And what if that happens and there is no Percy to fix me and piece me back together again.
Folding one of my tattered shirts I place it as though it's a delicate feather in my suitcase.
"Hope my mom and I hope my dad
Will figure out why they get so mad
Hear them scream, I hear them fight
They say bad words that make me wanna cry…"
I don't think I should be like this. Treating every particle that I hold in my hand as though it were an invaluable object.
I know that Dean is behind me trying to talk to me… but I can't care. I want to cry… so I let the tears fall to my face…
After all, I can't care.
"Close my eyes when I go to bed
And I dream of angels who make me smile
I feel better when I hear them say
Everything will be wonderful someday…"
I can't help myself. The tears are overwhelming. The words that are coming out of my mouth are clear and concise.
So unlike 'Ron Weasley', the one who is always in the background. The one that people will always overlook. The one who must be as Great and Noble as The- Boy- Who- Lived...
But I shall not. I will refuse.
"Promises mean everything when you're little
And the world's so big
I just don't understand how
You can smile with all those tears in your eyes
Tell me everything is wonderful now..."
I am not allowed to be me. My namesake forbids it. My hair and complexion will forsake me. My smile has become a fixture on my face. As though I can be nothing but what others have manipulated me to be.
Filling my mind with self- glorifying pictures of being a lackey.
And yet. Here I am.
Standing in front of my suitcase. Surrounded by the most loyal friends a person could ask for, wondering why I am crying…
I could answer that I am crying, because there is nothing left. I am an empty hole, with nothing to salvage to fill a void.
Because no sex, money nor empty promises could fill the black with colour.
"Please don't tell me everything is wonderful now…"
There is no one in the world who knows me. No one in the world who sees me as I see me.
But there is someone who can come close to being a contender.
Someone, who was there the last day of my innocence, the last day that I was me. Not merely a Weasley. There is one person who has been to hell and heard its sweet and sensuous call. Someone who feels as I feel, the actor.
The Court Jester.
"I go to school and I run and play
I tell the kids that it's all okay
I laugh aloud so my friends won't know
When the bell rings I just don't wanna go home…"
I'm curling in a ball. The darkness and pitch black have taken over me once again. I wrap my arms around my knees. Bringing them to squeeze to my chest as the thought of Doom, creeps slowly upon me. It's painful, this could-have-been-prevented panic attack. But that's the last thing on my mind. Right now all I want to do is scream and cry.
"Go to my room and I close my eyes
I make believe that I have a new life
I don't believe you when you say
Everything will be wonderful someday…"
I'm clutching my hands to my head, in a vain attempt to rid myself of these thoughts.
I can hear people around me. Someone touches me.
I scream.
And scream.
"Promises mean everything when you're little
And the world is so big
I just don't understand how
You can smile with all those tears in your eyes
When you tell me everything is wonderful now…"
I can recognize McGonagall's commanding voice. I can feel Hermione's tight embrace, refusing to let go.
But I've fallen too far over the edge.
I'm sick.
I know I am.
There is no words that can make that better.
There are no promises of happiness that will make it go away.
There is nothing in this world that'll make this alright.
"No
No, I don't wanna hear you tell me everything is wonderful now
No
No, I don't wanna hear you tell me everything is wonderful now…"
A sudden jolt and I realize that I am still singing that song. I cannot believe it.
The song is taking over my senses, and I concentrate on saying each word with a preciseness that is only heard when a North American tourists comes into the Village.
I've stopped trembling.
The blackness has dimmed.
But I know…
Sickness.
"I don't wanna hear you say
That I will understand someday
No, no, no, no
I don't wanna hear you say
You both have grown in a different way
No, no, no, no
I don't wanna meet your friends
And I don't wanna start over again
I just want my life to be the same
Just like it used to be
Some days I hate everything
I hate everything
Everyone and everything
Please don't tell me everything is wonderful now..."
And through all this insanity, I can't help but ask the most selfish thing that someone could possibly think.
Why me?
"I don't wanna hear you tell me everything is wonderful now…"
I can feel all their stares. I can feel all their confusion.
I can feel.
But it hurts. It hurts so much…
So much more than the betrayal…
So much more than the failure…
So much more…
Why me?
I know I know… the stupid song lyrics. But I heard the song on the way to school and I thought that it would capture a little more of how I think Ron would feel…. Plus I thought that saying that Harry and Draco's little 'thing' wouldn't affect him that much.
Mainly because the way that I've written Ron, he's too complex and wrapped up in trying to hold himself together to be bothered by something like that…
Also I needed enough angst in here to be able to get over a writer's block I have.
REVIEW… and if it is a must… CRITIZISE-(wow I so cannot spell).
