His fingers curled around the porcelain edges until his knuckles grew white, he breathed in deeply until his lungs expand, and then he submerged himself beneath the murky water.
It wasn’t until his back came to rest against the tub’s bottom, did he open his eyes again. They stung from the soapy water, but not unbearably so.
Above him, the water’s surface became a distorted window to a world he no longer wished to be apart of. Somewhere just above him, and yet, far away
It was also beneath the water, where nothing could escape to the surface, that he screamed
Not once, or even twice, but until his throat ached with unbridled rawness and his lungs threatened to burn right through his chest cavity.
He knew no one, not even the heavens above, could hear him.
He took comfort in such things