I look at myself in the mirror.

My icy blue eyes stare back as minutes become hours, and as I become more and more alone. Every second that passes is a second without him, and another second I don't know how to live.

I don't know what to do, so I look at myself, trying to will him back with my anger and my pain. My hatred for myself runs deep and eternal, and my love for him is the same. These emotions mirror each other, as we once did. One emotion is mangled and twisted and broken; hatred….George….me. The other is beautiful and sad and brilliant; love…Fred…the best part of me.

I have been brought to the sharp realization that we are two distinct beings. I always figured that we'd live together, or die together at the end of this battle. We'd fight together. We'd lie together beneath the earth. We'd hug our mother and dry her tears at the end of the war. Together.

And yet…

We – I - always thought that we'd be inseparable, for all our lives. It was a silly and strange assumption, because our bond was broken suddenly, almost effortlessly.

I look at myself in the mirror, and think of what he would have said. He would have told me to keep on living, inventing, and stirring up double the mischief and mayhem for him.

I think of the way he used to laugh, and his dry, bitter humor. I think of how I used to follow him around.

These are things most people didn't notice… how he was fierce and I was more restrained. How he'd jump into a fight and how I'd weigh the outcome. How I'd convinced him not to curse his own ear off, the same as mine. How I'd caught him crying in our joke shop. How he'd caught me tearing up in the kitchen of our flat. How he never did the dishes, and how he never did the laundry. How he secretly loved Christmas. And how he genuinely loved Angelina Johnson. These are the things nobody would ever know, because we were always Fred and George. One would never have to consider the possibility of living without the other, right? Being twins meant getting a best friend for life, someone to share everything with. Being twins meant never having to do anything alone.

I don't know how to live without the constant companionship, let alone living without my best friend.

So here I stand, bracing myself against the sink as I stare into the mirror. I wish desperately to turn back time, to rewind this war and change fate.

I can't stare at myself any longer, so I draw back my fist and smash it forcefully into the mirror.

I feel a dull pain as my fist collides with the mirror. I smash it to bits, searching for Fred in the bloodstained shards. All I see are bits of myself, winking out at me and taunting me.

Tears mix with the blood as I bury my head in my hands to muffle my sobs.