Marcid

“Why would you do that to him Sirius you know…” James whispered furiously outside of the Medical Wing doors.

“I wasn’t thinking Prongs i was… i was so mad at Snape that I just wasn’t thinking an…” Sirius was sobbing now. “Please can I just talk to him.”

James’s face was furious “He said no, and quite frankly I’m not surprised, i wouldn’t have wanted to talk to you either.”

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He was hiding in the Astronomy Tower. It was near 2 am but he wasn’t tired anymore. Or hungry. Or anything really. 

He didn’t want to sleep in his dorm so as to not make Remus uncomfortable and didn’t eat in the Great Hall for the same reason. When James occasionally asked if he was eating he said he was in the kitchens. That was partly true, he occasionally ate in the kitchens.

If someone really cared enough to notice the poorly glamoured bags under his eyes or the fact he was getting far too thin for his clothes then they would say something. Nobody had yet. 

Not many people had seen him out of class but they probably assumed that he was off pranking someone in one of Hogwarts many halls. He hadn’t laughed since he betrayed his friends, betrayed their trust. Or smiled.

How did no one see?

He hadn’t talked to any of the Marauders in three weeks despite sharing a dorm with them. He had given up. He had spent most of his time hiding in the bathroom if he even went back there at night. Blood running freely. Down his arm. Through his white shirt. Staining. 

If he was tired he slept in the common rooms. It wasn't comfortable but it was fine, he didn’t deserve comfort . If he wasn’t tired he wandered around or stared at the dying embers in the fireplace. Imagining that it was him. 

He saw the looks Remus sometimes gave him. Like he was nothing. He was. Like he should kill himself. He should.

How did no one know?

He saw the looks James gave him. Like he was the problem. He was. Like he was the reason things had become tense between Moony, Prongs and Wormtail. He was. 

He saw the sad looks Peter gave him. Like he wished everything could go back to the way it was. He wished that too. But he didn’t deserve it. Why should he?

Sometimes he went to the library to sit there. Sometimes he would go to the dungeons and find a window. He would sit there, bare arms and legs pressed against the cool glass till he was shaking and his lips were blue. He still would not move. Nobody saw him. Nobody ever saw him. 

Why did nobody see?

He wasn’t sure if he was glad or not. If nobody saw him he wouldn’t get better. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? If he was friends with the Marauders again would they be happy? Would he? What would happen?

If he was friends with them again would he be happy? No. They weren’t his friends anymore. They didn’t want him. Who would?

 Why would they… why would they want him ? Why would anybody? He was just a screw up. Why would they want to help him? Why would they want to fix him? Would they pick up his broken pieces? Put him back together until he smiled again? Laughed again. Or would they step on them. Squash the pieces of him to dust. Until he was nothing. Until he was a shell of himself. 

Just flesh and bones. Just a body. A walking corpse. With eyes that see but don’t process. With a mouth that talks but doesn’t say anything. With a heart that beats but doesn’t feel. 

Why would anyone want that. His parents kicked him out. They beat him. Screamed at him. Called him useless. His brother watched . Watched but didn’t say anything. Watched with those cold unfeeling eyes. Like he didn’t care. Didn’t care that his brother was on the floor. With a pool of blood around him. In pain.

He looked at the pale lines on his wrists, illuminated in the moonlight. He wasn’t doing well but who was there to care. Who was there to see? Nobody. 

His friends wouldn’t talk to him. He didn’t blame them. He didn’t have other friends. He had never bothered to make any more because he had the Marauders. He had his family. But they had left him just like everybody else. Nobody wanted him. He didn’t have anybody to blame but himself. 

He was pathetic. He was useless. He was a complete waste. He didn’t deserve their love . 

Why would they want a broken thing like him? He practically drowned himself with drinks. Suffocated himself with smoke. Bled himself out with cuts. 

He should just leave them forever. They would be happier. Lighter. They would be free. Free of the burden of him. Free from the memory of him. They wouldn’t have to be reminded of what he did. How he betrayed them. 

Remus would no longer have to be afraid he would tell anyone else. James would not have to see how he betrayed his best friend . His family. 

He wouldn’t get the chance to tell anybody else if he were dead . Because if he were dead nobody would know. He would take the secret to the grave. His grave. Because he had no use living. But if he were dead he would at least be able to fill a plot of land. He would have a purpose . He would have a use. He would have a place. A use.

His brother would become the heir like his parents had always wanted. Remus would be lighter. James would be free. Peter would be happier.

He wouldn’t be a burden.

The more the thought about this the more appealing it was. The more tempted he was to do it. The more he craved death. The more he wanted to embrace it. To see death like an old friend. Walk into the arms of something that wanted him. 

At this point Death was the only person that wanted him. That would look at him without being repulsed. Disgusted. Appalled. 

He knew people would want to stop him. They would claim he was ‘sick’ or ‘depressed’ or ‘mentaly unstable’ but he felt fine. He felt better than ever. Better than he had in the past weeks… months? How long had it been since… since he had smiled. Laughed. Been happy ? 

Too long

It had been too long

Since he had smiled

since he laughed

since he had been happy

It wasnt fair.

Why should it be fair?

Why should he have it easy?

Why should he deserve to be happy?

he shouldnt

he didnt deserve it

he never deserved it 

it was never what he deserved

why should he deserve it?

he didnt deserve it

he didnt deserve it

he didnt deserve

he didnt des…

he did…

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Someone was shaking him.

“Please”

There was a white light

Then darkness

Then a face… it was blurry 

Darkness 

Crying… who would be crying?

Who was there to care about him?

Then just darkness.

Only darkness.

He deserved nothing less than darkness.

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