How will I ever be whole again? [ENG][PG-13]

Bravo

Som tidigare kapitel är det jätte bra! Längtar tills det kommer mer!

Har bevkat åp din fic ett tag för att jag kände på mig att den skulle vara bra men har inte haft tid att läsa. Men nu har jag det och jag kan säga att det gick överförväntan. Den är jätte bra! Fortsätt som du gör! ♥

ORKAR INTE SÅ JÄVLA BRAAAAA

Tack alla!!

Du är riktigt duktig på att skriva ! vill bara läsa mer, mer, mer!

En liten varning! Blir du lätt triggad till självskadande beteende så avråder jag dig från att läsa detta kaptiel.

Chapter 6.

He fought against an unknown Death Eater. He had a mask, and was quite short, shorter than him, but still very scary, every spell and jinx seemed to hit George and he felt that he lost his powers. All he wanted was to end this, go home and sleep, but he knew that he must keep fighting, for his family’s sake. Distant, he heard a voice who sounded very alike his elder brother who he had spoken to earlier today, for the first time in years. Percy’s voice yelled;
“Hey minister! Have I mentioned that I’m resigning?”
“You are joking, Perce!” said a voice very alike his own.
Then George couldn’t hear anything but his own yells, a Cruciatus curse had hit him, and he felt that his chest was about to explode. And suddenly, the pain was removed, he looked up and saw the Death Eater lying on the ground and a satisfied girl who wore a tacky robe with a Ravenclaw pin. He didn’t know her name, he had never seen her before, but she looked beautiful. He met her eyes, and without thinking, he smiled. But she did not reply his smile, she shrieked and pointed, and George now saw how three other masked Death Eaters casted spells on him, all missed by less than half an inch. In a desperate cry to defend himself, he had shouted “BOMBARDA MAXIMA!”, but at that very moment, a jinx, he didn’t know which or from where, had hit him. His wand flew out of his hand, but the spell he had pronounced had worked anyway, because he heard a noisy bang.

The next thing he could remember was that he stood in the great hall, kneeling beside his twin brother, who no longer breathed, and kept asking what had happened. The entire hall was crowded in people crying, begging and hugging each other.
“There were an explosion”, said Ron, trembling. “And… he was… I don’t…”
George swallowed. He felt his mother’s warm hand on his shoulder, but he shook it of him, he didn’t deserve it. He had killed his own brother, his other half, and there was nothing that could change it.

George opened his eyes. To his great surprise, he had Apparated successfully. Well, not entirely, because he felt that his fringe was quite thinner than before and assumed that there were hairs from him in his bedroom that would make his mother freak out, but nothing worse.

He watched his reflection in the bright, blue water. He had no idea where he was, and he couldn’t remember which place he had thought about when he Apparated. Although he knew for sure that it wasn’t this place, he couldn’t remember that he ever had seen a place like this. The water was so bright and blue that it almost looked artificial, the rocks that marked the shoreline were so sharp-edged that it felt like walking on a bed of nails, and the grass was covered in dead insects and loosened up mud. There was a contrast between beautiful and ugly, warm and cold. The rocks were now partly covered in blood, George hadn’t had his shoes on when he Apparated, and yet he kept walking on the sharp rocks that made his skin crack.

He had come here with a frustrated feeling, and the silence that surrounded this place made he even more frustrated. He had never enjoyed silence. To live in a family with 9 people may had been a contributing factor, but no one had liked noise as much as he and Fred had. George screamed out in the air, and waited to her the echo, but it never came. In a desperate act, he took of all his clothes except from the underwear’s, and threw himself in the water. It was ice cold and didn’t feel so welcoming and beautiful as it looked. George swam back and forth until his lungs were filled with water, as fast as he could, and then finally heaved himself up. He crawled on the rocks and felt them pierce his entire body, and without knowing if it was on purpose or not, he draw his arm along a rock with wild force, and felt a cold satificition when he saw the blood sipper out from the cuts.

A mixture of emotions and bodily pain assembled in his eyes, his tears burned, desperate to come out. Struggling against them, he tried to not remember everything he just had seen in his mind, and had experience both for real and in his dreams so many times. His cries filled the silent air with an anxious feeling, and his blood was now streaming down in the water, turning it red.

Exhausted, drowning in pain, almost one hour later, he crawled away from the rocks, to the filthy and muddy grass, and fainted, face down in a heap of dead beetles.

brukar inte tycka om fanfictions vanligtvis, men den här var helt otrolig! du skriver väldigt bra keep it up!

Åh, tack så mycket

funderar på en grej.. hur lång tid har gått sen striden på slottet?