You'll Miss Me When I'm Dead

.:: You'll Miss Me When I'm Dead ::.

~ By Veraigo ~

Do you care?

Do you truly care about me?

Do you see me?

Really see me?

Hermione gazed out of the window, the sky was dark and the stars were sparkling. For anyone else this would have been a beautiful night, but not for Hermione. The glow from the moon shone upon the letter she was writing. Blood was still dripping from the fresh cuts on Hermione's wrist.

Have you seen my scars?

Have you seen my tears?

Haven't you noticed that I'm not eating?

Haven't you seen the blood?

Hermione picked up the quill and began writing again.

'...At least you'll miss me when I'm dead.

Love,

Hermione Granger.'

Hermione folded the letter and threw it out of the window, she would be next. She watched the letter as it floated down gently, she prayed that she would fall faster. She knew she would. She always seemed to know everything, at least people thought she did. That's the only reason they've ever cared. Because she was smart. Because she could help them with their homework. They never even noticed her pain. They never saw her being killed, from the inside, bit-by-bit. The letter landed on the cold grass and Hermione felt a warm tear escape her eye. With a quick glance at the photo that lay on her bed, Hermione lifted herself off of the windowsill, and jumped.

I'll be gone one day,

Will you mourn for me?

Will you cry?

Can you care at all?

Or am I just there for no reason?

You never seem to care,

You never seem to notice,

It didn't take long for Hermione's body to be found. Lavender Brown had been out for a walk when she saw it on the ground. Hermione's body was bruised and broken, and laying face down in a puddle of blood. They all cared then. They all cried at the funeral. They felt sad. They felt guilty. They began to wish that they had treated her better. That they had seen her, properly seen her. It was too late now. She was gone. And they all missed her.

At least you'll miss me when I'm dead.

Harry and Ron both looked at the letter. Tears filled their eyes as the words sank in:

'Dear...anyone,

Odds are, by the time you read this, that I'm already dead.

Dead as a doorknob.

You probably want to know what happened, It's simply really, I did.

I lived every single day, and it killed me.

Every second was pure agony.

But you never noticed.

You just walked by.

You didn't open your eyes, you didn't see.

But I don't blame you.

I hated me as well.

Being forced to look into the mirror day after day.

I hated what I saw.

I hated being alive.

I hated existence.

So I killed myself.

It's as simple as that.

I don't regret it.

I can't.

And you won't regret it, either.

You won't care that you were never there.

That you never saw me.

That you never cared.

At least you'll miss me when I'm dead.

Love,

Hermione Granger.'

Tears were now blotted on the piece of paper. She was Gone.