Kinda sad, this one made me cry a little. I never cry.
I do not own Harry Potter. Or Fred. Or George. Fred would still be alive.
Fred was gone.
George had to accept that fact, he was never coming back.
He had eventually moved from the Burrow back into his flat. He told himself it would be okay. Everything would be alright.
He didn't expect it to be that lonely. It was so quiet, but so loud at the same time.
He saw the pictures of them, and glimpsed at his room. Fred's. The name, instead of Voldemort's, a name that made him cringe. He forbade anyone to say it near him. He'd go mad.
He lost it. He tore up the pictures, his room, everything about him.
He couldn't handle it. Everything reminded George of Fred.
He sat down on his bed. The tears left his eyes, soaking anything in it's path.
"I miss you." He choked.
He knew he had always been the weaker twin. It was obvious.
Fred had been the bolder, louder, smarter, more everything twin.
People say they were the same, they weren't.
He had the brains, the ideas, the everything.
George was defienetly not the independant type.
He always, always depended on Fred.
It was like losing half of you, no-worse than that.
He staggered into his room and fell on his bed.
Fred was never coming back, and never was going to.
Ta-daaa! Donne :) Didn't take me a long time, actuallyyy. G'Night. (I have a few more chapters typed. I dunno when I'm gonna end this, either.