Before you read this chapter, it will be very dark and potentially triggering. It deals with self-harm and suicide so please read with caution! From now on, any chapters that are especially dark and potentially triggering will be marked with a (!), so if you need to skip these chapters you'll know in advance.
Claire had been so proud of herself. She had been making eye contact, speaking without a stutter, finally letting her voice be heard.
But not anymore.
Claire hated herself. She hated how quickly she had reversed to her old ways. She hated how she couldn't even sit in the Great Hall without feeling like every eye was on her, like spiders crawling all over her body. She wanted to destroy herself.
She just didn't know how.
Claire had always had thoughts of suicide. It was always in the back of her head, even when she was smiling and laughing with Harry or Hermione or Draco. She always thought that they would be better off without her, better off no having to deal with her and all her problems. But she had gotten better.
Until one small confrontation.
And now she was worse than ever.
She didn't even remember grabbing all the pills, but she sat in the Astronomy Tower with her hand full of pain pills, wanting nothing more than to shove them down her throat. Her hips were aching from where she had cut herself earlier. She could barely remember the action, only how disappointed she felt in herself for slipping for the first time, letting the intrusive thoughts take over. She hoped that Pansy found the blood that she had barely cleaned up and said something in front of everyone. That way she would have a reason to do it again.
Claire took two pills, her shaking hand almost dropping the rest off the side of the Tower. She told herself that she was only doing it to stop the pain in her hip, but she wasn't sure. She just wanted the pain to stop, but how can you stop the pain from your own thoughts?
Claire felt weak. She hated herself. How could anyone love her when she couldn't even love herself?
Claire couldn't stand it anymore. The whispers, the stares. She felt like they followed her everywhere, even when she was hiding in her room. She felt horrible and hadn't even talked with Harry, despite knowing that he needed her. What type of sister was she?
And what type of daughter was she?
She couldn't even call her own father Dad and she had potentially ruined his chance at happiness by telling Draco about Sirius. All she did was cause Remus pain and suffering. He would be happier without her.
She took two more pills without even thinking.
What type of daughter was she to have these types of thoughts when all Remus did was try to make her life better?
Claire hadn't realized that she was crying until a gust of wind blew against her face, pushing her hair back. She was sitting on the ledge, not even caring that it wasn't safe. Her hand shook even worse as the cold trapped her body, making it almost impossible to move. But her hip was barely stinging anymore and she wanted it to stop completely.
She took three more pills.
Or maybe more.
Claire could barely notice what was happening anymore. Her head was swimming and she could barely see due to her tears. All she could hear was the wind, her own cries, and the intrusive thoughts that had been put in her head since she first started living with her aunt and uncle.
You will always be a burden.
No one will ever love you.
We all hope you die.
Do everyone a favor and finish the pills.
Claire didn't even know if she had any more pills to finish. Her hand was empty, but she didn't know if she had dropped the pills or if she had taken them. Her head raced and she hoped that she had taken them.
"Claire?"
The girl let out a sad laugh at being caught. She couldn't even do this right.
"Claire, please-please get down."
Claire barely recognized the voice as belonging to Neville. She knew that the boy had been through a lot, but he was a lot stronger than she was. He would recover from seeing her.
Or was she just selfish and could only think of herself?
Claire stood up on the edge of the Tower and looked down. A fall from this high up would kill her. But as she looked down and as her stomach started to cramp she realized that she was scared.
She was scared to die and she was scared to live.
"Claire, please, just take my hand."
"Why?" Claire asked, her voice thick and barely loud enough for Neville to hear.
"Because I know that you have a life left to live. And I know you're better than what everyone says."
"You don't know me," Claire said with a cold laugh. She hadn't turned around because she knew that when she saw his face she wouldn't be able to go through with it. And she didn't yet know what she wanted.
"I know that you love Transfiguration," Neville started, his voice shaking. "I know that you love Harry, and Hermione. I know that you're one of the smartest in our year and you can do magic above our level. I know that you were getting better, and I know how hard that is. And I know that you are loved."
Claire didn't know how Neville got to be so smart, but she knew he was right. She made her decision and tried to get off the edge to grab Neville's hand.
But instead her foot slipped and she fell, darkness clouding her vision. And she didn't know if the light would come back.