Status: oneshot (:
He's Gone
Here.
Time. It is a strange concept. Who determines how much time we have left? Who decides when we die? Who decides how? Why did they have to take Fred? He left us all, broken. He was my twin. He was selfish for leaving us. He was selfish for leaving me. His twin. We went through everything together. The one person I knew I could trust, with anything. My best friend. My brother. Why did he have to leave?
We could have opened Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes worldwide, made Galleons, lived like celebrities; we were just getting everything ready to go global. We were already that successful. We were almost ready.
Why did he have to leave?
Mum was silent for months; locked herself in their bedroom. You could hear her sobbing inside, wailing. Wanting Fred to return. We all did. We all do. Ginny spent all her time outside, on the swing we built for her when she was 6. She didn’t speak. She just stared. We all did. We all do. Ron disappeared; he’d come back at night, sleepy looking, with red stains under his eyes.
Why did Fred have to leave?
Me? I spent all my time at the shop, breaking the windows and repairing them instantly. I destroyed the whole stock, crushing them to tiny pieces. I wailed and sobbed and screamed. Still he never came back. He was my twin. He had to come back. I was a twin. I wasn’t just a brother.
Hermione and Harry came to visit us sometimes, and we all just sat in silence. No cries, no tears, no sobs; we were all too numb for that. No one said a word as we stared into the fire, wishing to see his head pop into the flames, telling us it was all a cruel joke, a prank.
It never appeared.
Why did he have to leave?
Bill and Charlie stayed with us for months; they promised they wouldn’t return to their jobs or houses. Fleur and the children never came, which was fine. I think she understood that it wasn’t really her business.
It felt strange, not having Lupin or Tonks or Mad-Eye or even Sirius there, telling us to cheer up. Teddy stayed with us, of course. He never understood what was wrong. He was too young for that.
And then the grief kicked in.
For weeks, all any of us could do was cry. I slept on the floor in the living room, because I knew I’d break down if I slept in our room. There wasn’t a smile or a laugh exchanged anywhere in the house; I saw Mum sending an owl, with Fred titled on the envelope. Pig looked at us like we were mad. We probably were. We were all drenched in misery.
I closed the shop for months. When I reopened, I knew I wouldn’t have many customers. They’d have buggered off to other places. But why should I supply laughs to strangers, when I can’t have my own? There wasn’t a reason to laugh without Fred. He was always the better twin.
He got more OWLs than me, although we both did horribly. He was the best at coming up with ideas for products; he was better than me in everyway. And now I was nothing. Because he selfishly left us. Left me.
Why did he have to leave?
It was only after about 4 months when the rest of the family started being themselves again; there was a reason for them. They exchanged smiles, they left the house for social events, they spent time with their friends. I couldn’t forget Fred. I couldn’t move on. He was my twin. My best friend. I didn’t want to accept it.
He’s gone.
It took me almost a year to understand it. It took me so long to finally reopen the shop, start seeing my friends again, stop talking to people who weren’t alive anymore. I spent ages conversing with air, hoping Fred would hear me. Hoping he was there. He never was. But I could feel him there. He was there. Fred could hear me.
I spent a lot of my time with a bottle of Firewhiskey. I wanted to forget that Fred passed. I wanted to believe that he was still alive. I was never addicted. I just did it to numb the pain for a while, even if it would make it worse when I finally stopped.
I knew that. I still wallowed in my own misfortune.
I couldn’t feel anymore without Fred. He was my reason. For anything. Why should I stay when I have no reason to?
I left the house soon after I accepted his passing. I packed my things and moved back to Diagon Alley. Began to live my life again. Threw my bottles of Firewhiskey away. But none of my family realised that I took a picture of Fred with me.
I placed it above the fireplace.
Fred was my twin, my best friend.
It took me ages to accept it, but he was gone. And it was time to move on. It was time for me to live for Fred, because that’s what he would’ve done for me. Time to live my life again.
We could have opened Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes worldwide, made Galleons, lived like celebrities; we were just getting everything ready to go global. We were already that successful. We were almost ready.
Why did he have to leave?
Mum was silent for months; locked herself in their bedroom. You could hear her sobbing inside, wailing. Wanting Fred to return. We all did. We all do. Ginny spent all her time outside, on the swing we built for her when she was 6. She didn’t speak. She just stared. We all did. We all do. Ron disappeared; he’d come back at night, sleepy looking, with red stains under his eyes.
Why did Fred have to leave?
Me? I spent all my time at the shop, breaking the windows and repairing them instantly. I destroyed the whole stock, crushing them to tiny pieces. I wailed and sobbed and screamed. Still he never came back. He was my twin. He had to come back. I was a twin. I wasn’t just a brother.
Hermione and Harry came to visit us sometimes, and we all just sat in silence. No cries, no tears, no sobs; we were all too numb for that. No one said a word as we stared into the fire, wishing to see his head pop into the flames, telling us it was all a cruel joke, a prank.
It never appeared.
Why did he have to leave?
Bill and Charlie stayed with us for months; they promised they wouldn’t return to their jobs or houses. Fleur and the children never came, which was fine. I think she understood that it wasn’t really her business.
It felt strange, not having Lupin or Tonks or Mad-Eye or even Sirius there, telling us to cheer up. Teddy stayed with us, of course. He never understood what was wrong. He was too young for that.
And then the grief kicked in.
For weeks, all any of us could do was cry. I slept on the floor in the living room, because I knew I’d break down if I slept in our room. There wasn’t a smile or a laugh exchanged anywhere in the house; I saw Mum sending an owl, with Fred titled on the envelope. Pig looked at us like we were mad. We probably were. We were all drenched in misery.
I closed the shop for months. When I reopened, I knew I wouldn’t have many customers. They’d have buggered off to other places. But why should I supply laughs to strangers, when I can’t have my own? There wasn’t a reason to laugh without Fred. He was always the better twin.
He got more OWLs than me, although we both did horribly. He was the best at coming up with ideas for products; he was better than me in everyway. And now I was nothing. Because he selfishly left us. Left me.
Why did he have to leave?
It was only after about 4 months when the rest of the family started being themselves again; there was a reason for them. They exchanged smiles, they left the house for social events, they spent time with their friends. I couldn’t forget Fred. I couldn’t move on. He was my twin. My best friend. I didn’t want to accept it.
He’s gone.
It took me almost a year to understand it. It took me so long to finally reopen the shop, start seeing my friends again, stop talking to people who weren’t alive anymore. I spent ages conversing with air, hoping Fred would hear me. Hoping he was there. He never was. But I could feel him there. He was there. Fred could hear me.
I spent a lot of my time with a bottle of Firewhiskey. I wanted to forget that Fred passed. I wanted to believe that he was still alive. I was never addicted. I just did it to numb the pain for a while, even if it would make it worse when I finally stopped.
I knew that. I still wallowed in my own misfortune.
I couldn’t feel anymore without Fred. He was my reason. For anything. Why should I stay when I have no reason to?
I left the house soon after I accepted his passing. I packed my things and moved back to Diagon Alley. Began to live my life again. Threw my bottles of Firewhiskey away. But none of my family realised that I took a picture of Fred with me.
I placed it above the fireplace.
Fred was my twin, my best friend.
It took me ages to accept it, but he was gone. And it was time to move on. It was time for me to live for Fred, because that’s what he would’ve done for me. Time to live my life again.
♠ ♠ ♠
enjoy!