The Bad Times
I walk into the hall. This place fills me with so many happy memories. Before I allow my mind to become filled with the jokes, the teasing, the food, the good times, I remember how many people have died, Remus and Tonks to name two.
Two of the nicest, bravest, kindest, people who had a son waiting for them at home. They'll never see him again. They'll never watch him speak, walk, do magic, go to Hogwarts, get a girlfriend, pass exams, graduate, get a job. They'll never see him again.
I stop. There's my family. It's hard to mistake them; we'll all redheads, unfortunately with tempers to match. I see their tear stained cheeks before they see me. Who's died? Ron or Fred, they're both not there.
It must be Ron. Fred would never leave me. We are supposed to do everything together including die. Then they notice me, mum who is crouching beside her dead son, dad with his hand on her shoulder. Ginny opposite mum, curled up in a ball, Fleur holding her and letting her cry. Bill, Charlie and Percy arms round each other's shoulders.
Dad opens his mouth to tell me, to let me cry and grieve for the right person. Words fail him, instead they move aside to show me. Thank God Ron is alive, this is my first thought.
NO! It can't be. This is not happening, this is not Fred. Unaware that I am still walking, my mind replays all the arguments we ever had. The times we fought over homework answers, prank ideas, shop names, girls, product ideas and names. The times I pinned the blame on him so Mum wouldn't yell at me. All the times I never said sorry. All the bad times.
Why can't I remember the good times? I return to the nightmare to find myself by Fred's head and my family (Ron now as well) giving me strange and worried looks through their tears. I sink to the floor.
I can't cry. All I think is that I should have died. Not him. I'm surrounded by people but I'm all alone. Never again will we share a bedroom, clothes, job, books, a flat, a birthday. Our birthday is in a few weeks time and for the first time in my life I grow older before, without him, by myself. Without my elder brother to show me the way. And then that thought disappears and I can only remember the bad times.
Why only the bad times? Why?
Please review I would love to know your thoughts. I really wanted to write this but found it hard because I had no idea how I would react if my twin died. But probably something like that.
Tac