I Need You

Chapter 1 The Cut

Ron's POV

I'm sitting in my mundane bedroom, thinking about what's been going on. It's early July, and nothing to do. Harry's busy visiting Snuffles in Italy (Snuffles decided it would be safer hiding there than here, the reason, I don't know why.) And 'Mio.. er Hermione, is in a nadir part of the world. Well, not really, she's in Bulgaria 'OF COURSE!!' I think bitterly.

It's not like I'm jealous or anything. It's just, I have an antipathy feeling about that bloody git! I don't know, I have a feeling that he is a guile guy. Besides he's used to a different ethnology than we are here in England. I am staring out the window watching Fred and George in the garden, trying out there new inventions ( The Degnoming Machine). They have a successful career, since they work at Zonko's Joke Shop in Hogsmeade now. And Ginny and Harry are still together after two years of dating.

Oh, yeah, how can I forget, Hogwarts. Well, it's my final year there, and personally, I'm glad. Actually, the only reason I've gotten this far is because of my protégé from Hermione. I'm tired of being a shadow of my best friend. I'm tired of being alone. I have friends, I think. It's just, I don't think they can understand how I feel. There's no job offer that's good enough for me anyhow. The idea is just ludicrous.

Hermione already has a job lined up. She's been getting like 10 letters a day offering her sundry jobs dealing with the Ministry of Magic, because she's a connoisseur in everything. She must've had a precocious mind at age one. She doesn't want to deal with that now, though. She says she just wants to graduate first before accepting.

Last and certainly not least, Harry. Well, what can you expect from "The Boy Who Lived"? He's still famous and still wanted by all the girls in the school. Ever since the subversion of the Dark Lord, Harry has become more famous than ever. All because he was the one who defeated him. I don't know it just irritates me sometimes, because I was there too. I mean, don't get me wrong. We're still best friends, but sometimes it just bothers me when I see him surrounded by girls, leaving me in the dust. It doesn't make me feel too hot. My entire life is a foible anyway.

I finally snap back in reality. Future: Hermione, Ministress of Magic wife of the Bulgarian seeker, Harry loved by all, Fred and George, good pay and always the lovable buffoons of the party. Percy, an excellent connoisseur on elocution, for he has to cosign speeches all the time, being the Minister and all. Ginny, she's getting good grades and just perfectly happy. I'm a nonentity to my family; a residual in this world. Obviously there's no wonderful future for me. I mean, I'm not treated in a menial way. It's just I'm lonely all the time. I feel like I was born on the nadir part of the earth. I am a person with a nondescript personality. I know it sounds strident, but it's the truth.

I mean, sure I have a dream. To marry Hermione, have lots of kids with bushy red hair who love to read and have fun, and to have a great job. Yeah, right. I know, I just admitted it. I love Hermione. But I mean, what are the chances I'll get to be with her anyway? I mean, she's the only girl I want, and she's Vicky's. Instead I have to love her in clandestine. So, that rules out two things of my dream. And of the dream I have left, I am too worthless to even think that I could be offered it. So, that rules out everything.

I get up from my chair and head toward the bathroom, walking in a parsimonious gait. Today the place I live in is like a commodious house, because I am all alone. Ginny is watching Fred and George try out their invention. Mum and Dad are at a Quidditch game with Percy, Bill, and Charlie. They didn't ask me to come, but I don't want to go anyway. A lot of the time, they don't even realize I'm there. I mean, Bill is salient for being head boy, and Charlie, Quidditch captain. Percy, another head boy, Fred and George, they're salient by all their jokes. Ginny, She is salient for Harry, I guess. I guess it's because I'm not a prefect, or tell funny jokes, or have anything that would get their attention. I sometimes to foment trouble, but they don't notice that it was me who did it. I've lost my interest in Quidditch. In fact, I've lost interest in about almost everything. What is the point of life anyway? I am incorrigible, because there's no way I can be of any use in this world.

I look in the mirror and wince at the reflection. I'm too tall and obese, my nose is too long, I swear too much, I hate my red hair. You're not loved by anyone you're worthless, I hear a voice in my head. Take the razor. I absentmindedly twirl the razor in my hands, obeying the voice. I usually come in here whenever I feel this upset.

I finally come to my senses when I feel blood running down my left arm. I stare at the razor, blood on the edges. This isn't new to me. I've done this a couple times before. I know that maiming myself is wrong, but I have to do it. I have a dogma that cutting myself will release my pain faster. Excellent, you're doing very well. The more blood drawn the better. Every time I do, I feel relaxed. My problems melt away at an instant. I feel somewhat peaceful. I always wear long sleeves to cover it up. I also wipe the razor with the toilet sheet to clear it from any vestige of blood.

I hear the door slam. Quickly I grab toilet paper sheet, putting it on my cut, and grabbing a band-aid, and lock myself in my room. I refuse to let my family know about this. I mean, this is an extraneous thing. None of my family, (that I know of) have done something like this. I guess I'm the lucky one. I'd get a lecture, or be sent to an insanity place. I think Ginny's noticing that something's wrong, because I've been doing very inscrutable actions. Before I know it, the restitution of my feelings are coming back again, and I am falling inside.