My Suicide

Disclaimer: I do not own HP. And I don't want to.

A/N: one-shot.

EMOTIONS

I stare at the blade, the glint blinding my eyes.

They think they know me. They think I'm powerful. They think I'm undefeatable, invincible. They think they can depend on me for the world. They think they understand what I feel, being the one loved by all. They think I'm perfect. They think my life is flawless. They think I have no troubles, no worries. They think I've got it all.

They're wrong.

And maybe, in a sense, I do have everything a person would want. The passing grades, the money, the fame. The glory of being the star. The attention from the females, the attention from the media, the attention of every bloody wizard and witch standing. Acceptance. Popularity. Skill and ability.

I don't want it.

I don't need it.

I don't have the one thing I want. And what I want is that one thing I can't have. Perhaps that is the reason why I am so drawn. Perhaps that is the reason why I cannot forget. Perhaps that is the reason I won't let go.

I can't have her.

There's nothing in the world I can't have. Everything is offered to me when I demand it to be given. But she's the only exception. She won't have me. I can't stop craving.

The longing is torture. It tears me apart. It rips me to shreds. I am reduced to tiny fragments, littered on the ground. I cannot pick it up. The craving pains me. I'm addicted. I'm hooked.

I'm wasted.

She is with another. I see her everyday, and everyday is another scar added to my heart. Another wound, driven deep, cruel and bitter. She gives me smiles, and I return them without missing a pause.

While I cry in rage inside.

She does not talk to me. She does not look at me. She does not have time. She is wrapped in the library, she is studying, she is with her boyfriend. I don't stand a chance. But I'm still here. I am always here. Every single second I am there only for her, and every single second is another in which I have no response. She doesn't need me there for her.

I'm here.

Here in the hallway, standing in the silence, staring up at the ceiling as my tears blur my vision. Here in the common room, where I hide my red- brimmed eyes behind my books. Here in the Great Hall, not eating, pretending it doesn't hurt. Here during classes, where I steal glances, inexistent to her. Here lying on my bed, unable to sleep, unable to keep my thoughts from images of her.

Yet she's gone.

I see the way her eyes light up. I see the soft curve of her mouth curling into a smile. I see the color rising to her cheeks, silent creeping, roses crimson. I hear a surprised gasp, ecstatic and sweet. I know the delight in her voice, the glee in her laugh. I feel the warm embrace, passionate and engulfing. I taste her lips, intoxicating. I see bliss in her expression. I see love.

It is not for me.

She sees nothing.

She doesn't see me cringe. She doesn't see the forced grin. She doesn't see the hollow of my eyes, the ashes in my mouth, the hurting inside. She doesn't see the scars on my wrist. She doesn't notice the dropping grades. She doesn't ask why I don't eat. Why I can't sleep. Why I'm silent around her. What had happened to our friendship. She doesn't bother to worry when I cough and choke, when my eyes fill with tears. She doesn't run after me when I turn away. She doesn't see me.

She is the reason I breathe.

She will be the reason for my death.

There is no man in this world that can love her as much as I do. No one could ever sacrifice as much. No one could be less selfish. No one could hurt more. No one could bear the pain like I do.

No one knows.

No one has to.

I am happy for her, as long as she is in ecstasy. I do not interfere. I do not need her to worry about me. I retreat to the corner, slipping into the darkness, the cold. I watch her. I observe. I am there whenever she needs help, ready to present her with all of my being. She thinks it's all her boyfriend.

It's fine with me.

Just great.

I hate it.

I hate him. I hate him for being with her. For being where I belong. For being the one to hold her, to kiss her, to love her. I hate the fact that she will never see me the way she sees him. I hate the fact that I'm just neglected, cast away, thrown aside. Trampled and destroyed. I am in ruins, they are joyous.

I cry. I scream. I rip. I tear. I bleed. I die, over and over again. I want to forget. I have to forget. I cannot. She is everywhere. She in every cloud drifting by, every ray of sunlight, every empty plate, every reflection of the lake, every star in the night sky. She is wonderful. She is perfect. She is divine.

She is killing me.

Never again.

I slice, fast and smooth, clean.

There are rose petals everywhere, falling.

I lie in them

And wait for my death.

A/N: Depressed.