If you recognize it, it ain't mine.
He sat on his bed, eyes staring blankly at nothing. The ink on the quill in his hand dried and still he sat there. Waiting, waiting. Waiting for inspiration. To try and write down the haze of confused feelings inside of him. To try and explain the reasoning behind the actions he was about to perform.
He roused himself and jumped up; walked over the Muggle radio. A song floated out. Do you ever feel like breaking down? … Smiling, Harry laid his quill to paper and began to write.
Do you ever feel like breaking down?
Do you ever feel out of place?
Like somehow you just don't belong
And no one understands you
Dear Ron, Hermione, and whoever else this may concern.
Before I start this letter, I just want to ask a few questions. No doubt you have many thousands of queries of your own, but just bear with me for the moment.
Did you ever feel like having a breakdown? Did you ever get locked in a cupboard for days without food? Did you ever feel like everywhere you went, you were out of place? Did you ever be treated like a punching bag by ten people at once? Did you always feel like you didn't belong, no matter how hard you tried? Did you ever feel that no one except those dead understood you?
Do you ever wanna runaway?
Do you lock yourself in your room?
With the radio on turned up so loud
That no one hears you screaming
Did you ever, at eight years of age, sneak out of the house with an almost empty bag with all your earthly possessions in it, only to be caught my your maniac of an uncle and have the stuffing knocked out of you? Did you ever try to convince people you were right, only to have them laugh themselves stupid at you? Did you ever barricade yourself in your room, coming out only for meals? Did you ever turn your radio up really, really loud, because the alternative was the neighborhood hearing you scream yourself hoarse while trapped in nightmares?
No you don't know what it's like
When nothing feels all right
You don't know what it's like
To be like me
No, I don't think you ever did. I don't think any of you know what it is like to be an outcast, what its like to strive to be normal, only to find you can't be. Because none of you know what its like to be like me.
To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life
To have your heart ache because nobody loves you. To feel that you've permanently lost your way. To be locked out of your home at night, left out in the dark when you were six. To be attacked, over and over, until every verbal insult feels like you're curled up on the ground, sobbing, while people kick you over and over with steel capped boots until blood flows from every pore. To be pushed around by those bigger and more influential than you. To be totally and completely going crazy from grief only to have no one notice? No, you have no clue what my life is like, so welcome to it!
Do you wanna be somebody else?
Are you sick of feeling so left out?
Are you desperate to find something more?
Before your life is over
You know, all my life I have strived for normalcy. All my life. But did you know, that after I killed Voldemort, I would have given my soul to be normal. I would have given my soul to be someone else. I felt left out, because that which everyone had always had and took granted, I haven't had since I was eleven. I so wanted to find something more before my death, and I did, only to have it snatched away from me.
Are you stuck inside a world you hate?
Are you sick of everyone around?
With their big fake smiles and stupid lies
While deep inside you're bleeding
I hate this world now. Not the inhabitants (although some of them are right bastards), but the cruel irony that governs our lives. Take Ginny and me. All that time I was chasing after Cho, but my perfect woman was there in front of me the whole time. Though I must admit, certain people are getting on my nerves: Rita Skeeter, Cornelius Fudge (re-instated to Minister), fan girls who linger outside my house, Romilda Vane and Cho Chang, everyone, really. They are always smiling at me; fake of course, lying about various crap I don't need to know while in my heart I am weeping tears of blood.
No you don't know what it's like
When nothing feels all right
You don't know what it's like
To be like me
Thinking back, I wouldn't expect you to know what my life is like, and quite frankly I'd be devastated if you did.
To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life
No one ever lied straight to your face
No one ever stabbed you in the back
You might think I'm happy but I'm not gonna be okay
Everybody always gave you what you wanted
Never had to work it was always there
You don't know what it's like, what it's like
I bet that no one ever told you that they thought you were stark raving mad and lied to you. I bet that someone you trusted never betrayed you. I fooled you all well, with my talk of a new life and hope but right now I see no other way out. I've never had everything I wanted – hell, I didn't even get my heart's desire. You never had to work at having a family because it was always there. You have no idea what its like
To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No you don't know what it's like (what it's like)
To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life
Welcome to my life
Welcome to my life
Welcome to my life. I think I've said all I need to. Now for personal goodbyes. Ron, Hermione – thanks for being there, always, no matter how crazy I was. Please put flowers on Ginny's grave in my stead – use the money I've left you. Blue tulips or white roses. Remus – thanks for the help with the you-know-whats. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley – thank you for being the parents I never had. Everyone else – goodbye. I'll be watching over you, if you believe in that stuff.
Harry James Potter
P.S. The will is in the top drawer
Harry smiled. The letter was finished. He tied it to Hedwig's leg for the last time. He watched her fly out of his window. Then he picked up the long, sharp knife lying by his side. He lay back on the bed and plunged the slim knife into his wrist. As the blood flowed out, he began to laugh. He laughed and he laughed even when he went cold as his life blood dripped onto his quilt. Even as his vision turned black he laughed. His last thought was, Goodbye.