James whimpered, gods he was so ashamed of himself, disgusted, really, as he pressed the blade to his forearm. How could he do this to himself, something as awful as this, when he was surrounded by so much? How could he hurt himself when he had so much? With a tap of his wand he could do anything and he still hated himself. it was selfish, he thought as he slid the sharp metal across his tan skin that was already littered with scars, that he could hate being alive so deeply when he had the best life anyone could possibly ask for, when he had the best friends, partners, parents, house, school and more to keep him happy. He hated how it made him feel to know that the perfect life that everyone around him had worked so hard to give him couldn’t fulfill his needs, his awful, selfish needs.
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“I’m an awful person..” James muttered as he stood up, ignoring how lightheaded he was. He fixed his glasses as he pressed the sink stopper down and threw the blade in, watching as the water washed away the fresh blood that coated the bottom of it. Once he decided that it was clean enough, he picked it up and drained the water, he continued to watch as the now pink-tinted water got sucked down into the drain and out of sight, much like he’d like to do right at the moment, get sucked down the drain to hell, out of sight and mind.
He opened his drawer and dropped the blade in, covering it with a few of the miscellaneous things he kept in the bathroom. He looked up in the mirror and watched himself shut the drawer, he hated the way he looked. the way his button nose didn’t fit in with his sharp jawline, the way his glasses sat on his nose so sideways, the way his lips were always so chapped, and his fucking scars. Oh gods his scars. He despised the way the white scars clashed against tan skin, the way they coated his arms, a constant reminder that he was a selfish, self-centered person. A reminder that’d be there forever, at his graduation, at his wedding, the birth of his children.
His scars would be at any of those things if they simply didn’t happen.
He grabbed his wand and shoved it on his pocket and turned the bathroom light off. He slowly opened the door. The bathroom was right next to Remus’ bed, who was (thankfully) a deep sleeper, he and Sirius had fought that afternoon, meaning the other boy, who was a light sleeper, was in his bed at the farthest point from the bathroom. Peter’s bed was right between Remus and Sirius’ beds, he wasn’t really a light or a deep sleeper, all they knew was that he snored. Loudly. So loudly, in fact, that they had to place a silencing charm over his bed every night, which took care of him. James tiptoed over to his bedside table and slowly slid it open, digging through it for a moment before pulling out seven letters and a rock. He stuffed the letters in his left pocket and the rock in his right before standing up and hurrying out of the room.
He gently closed the door before running down the stairs and through the common room, then the portrait hole, and the corridors. He was halfway to the astronomy tower when he realized that he had forgotten his invisibility cloak and the marauders map. “who cares if I get in trouble, I’ll be dead by tomorrow anyways..” he whispered to himself between ragged breaths before running up around ten flights of stairs before he reached the floor he wanted. He ran through the corridor until he reached the door he needed. He walked through the door and let it shut behind him, it was chilly in the towers at night, but quiet, peaceful. James pulled the letters out of his pocket and unfolded them. He bent down and set the seven pieces of paper on the ground, one for Remus, one for Sirius, one for Peter, one for Lilly, one for regulus, one for his mum, and one for his dad. He placed the rock on top of the stack before standing.
He took a moment to look at the cuts on his arms before walking to the edge of the tower and staring down. It was a long drop, that was good, great really, he’d be dead the moment he hit the ground. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and-
“Mr. Potter?”
He stumbled back, hitting the ground with a loud thump. “Minnie? What- what are you doing out this late?” He looked up at her, his voice shaky as he tried to play of his suicide attempt “no dear, what are you doing out this late?” She glanced at the letters and he scrambled to collect them, ripping the one for his mum through the middle “shit! No no no no no..” he felt tears burn at the corners of his eyes as he watched the papers scatter “calm, my love” McGonagall was crouching across from James now, helping him collect the letters. She started to read the top of one before James snatched it out of her hands “that one’s for Remus..” he muttered, shoving it in his pocket along with the other ones “I’ll have to re-write the one for mum” he muttered as he straightened up “would you like me to help you?” McGonagall offered and James shook his head “no it’s allright Minnie”
the woman looked skeptical for a moment before she agreed “okay, understood.”