As he wakes up he notices that he has no text messages.
He just hopes that he would have a message from someone,
but sadly no one wants to talk to this poor soul.
He has not had a friend since he moved to this new place.
Everything seems so cold and dark even when he has a smile.
Is his smile even real or is he just trying to fit in with this cold place?
Day’s after months after years he still feels the same way he did when he woke up
sad, alone, cold, and scared.
As he reaches adulthood he gets his first job, hoping he would make a friend
He’s been doing this for a while now and things for him are getting worse.
Those horrible thoughts are coming across his mind more and more.
“Should I end it? I’m tired of the suffering of loneliness.. I can’t do this much longer.”
One day he grabs a pistol from his Father's bedroom.
He pulls the gun to his head thinking about how sad he is and all the pain he’s in.
He eventually decides to pull the gun away and set it down.
He thinks to himself “There are so many things in life I’ve never gotten to experience
I need to at least have my first love before I can end my life.”
Four years later things appear to be looking better.
He still is alone but has gotten used to it.
Deep down he knows he isn’t fine what so ever.
He’s getting worse and worse.
You look at his arms and you see scars and wounds.
-everyone knows what happen-
One night he goes to his bedroom in his apartment and opens up the safe.
He grabs his deceased father's pistol and puts his finger on the trigger.
-He slightly pulls on the trigger-
As a tear falls down his face he takes one deep breath;