A/N: Hello peeps. This IS a oneshot just so you know. Fred was my favorite character (next to George of course) and I hated to see him die. This is a story about George living with the pain. Not alot of dialouge because well, Fred is gone and who is George gonna talk to? The wall? Himself? Mr. Sock Puppet Man? Maybe the last one. LOL. Well, now for my oneshot story!
Disclaimer: This could be a oneshot, the disclaimer. Wow, has promises. Well, I dont own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. I don't even own this internent or fanfiction! What DO I own! Well, me, thats about it.
Goodbyes are always Hardest
George walked to the window. The sun was just now setting, turning the sky to bright red like blood. The sky was a light pink and the red mixed making the sky look tie-dye. George wasn't intrested in the spectacular view. His thoughts were still on his dead twin, Fred. How much he missed his twin. His laugh, the way he talked and cracked a joke. The way the two of them would cause terror at school with their pratical pranks and jokes on all of the teachers that gave the students joy and laughter. Unfourtanly, George's pain couldn't be distracted by pranks and jokes like all of those Hogwarts students.
Losing his twin was like losing a part of him. He felt empty, like there was a hole that would never be filled. He felt like he was falling into an abyss, with no laughter, smiles, or joy. Only pain, misery, and the feeling of death all around you. George felt like he was suffocating in his own misery. He clenched the edge of his bed in his room in an attempt to fight back tears. It didn't work. Tears streamed down his face and fell onto his hands. He gave no care to wipe away the tears from his hands. To him, it didn't matter, nothing did.
The only thought that kept him moving was what Fred would've wanted. He knew Fred would have wanted him to continue the joke shop and not keep greiving over him. Everyday was the same, George work at the shop and then walk to his room above the shop and think about death, pain, and how pointless it seemed to keep moving. To George, he felt already dead. Fred was gone and there was no one to keep him company and distract all of the bad thoughts. When they were little, they would always comfort each other when ever bad dreams came or they got picked on for being poor. All of George's life, he has had Fred there to comfort him.
Now George was alone and had to confront the darkness all by himself. His freinds had greived for Fred, but none felt how he felt. No one had lost the closest thing that they loved. No one esle had lost their favorite friend or person. No one had lost their will to live, but George had. Now, death didn't seem so bad. He would end all of his pain and suffering and be with Fred again. He knew he couldn't do that, his parents couldn't stand losing another son so soon.
He started to pace, hoping that would ease the pain. He passed the large, floor mirror that was on his wall. He stopped and looked into it. He saw Fred instead of himself. They were almost the same, except that George didn't have two ears, he had one. George placed his hand on the mirror and collasped sobbing. All of his tears were coming out, even more. The tears streamed down his face and down onto his clothes and hands. Once again, George ignored these tears. All he wanted to do was cry and pretend that Fred was alive.
George stopped sobbing and looked into the mirror. His tear stained face looked back with the same twisted facial expression of misery and sorrow. Seeing his reflection made him angry. Why had Fred died instead of him! Why did Fred have to die? George wished either Fred had lived or they would have died together. He grabbed his wand and muttered a simple spell. The mirror shattered into a million pieces and crashed onto the floor.
"There. Now, my life has shattered and died, and so has this mirrors," he muttered, looking down at the broken glass.
George bent down and picked up a peice of glass. He ran his fingers along the edges and cut one of his fingers. Suprisingly, he felt better. He started to cut his wrists and the pain and misery seemed to melt away. George laugh like a maniac as he cut himself with the sharp glass. As George was about ready to kill himself, common sense won.
What would he gain by dieing? Then again, what would he gain by living. George thought it over and decided to kill himself. Taking a broken piece in his hands, he drove it into his heart and his body fell with a soft thud.
Ok, this is George's afterlife experince as soon as he dies:
George opened his eyes. Where am I, he thought, didn't I die? The room he was in looked like Kings Cross station. Weird, he thought. George looked around and saw something move.
A blurry shape ran towards him and before he could react, George felt arms wrap around him and squeeze. Wait, he thought, this isn't an attack. Its a hug.
"George!" a familar voice shouted. George recognized him immeditaly:
"FRED!" George shouted in response and returned his brother's hug. He felt complete now, all of the pain was gone. The hole was filled at last.
What did you think? I know short, but hey, it has alot of feeling in it. I kinda felt sad making George kill himself, but he met up with Fred so don't kill me. I based the last part on the semi-ending of the 7th Harry Potter book. Is Kings Cross kinda like Heaven for wizards? LOL. Hoped you enjoy and I might write more for Harry Potter, who knows?
Thanks for reading my angst filled oneshot,