K
Kuroshi
Guest
Original poster
Just some short stories, poems, and disproportional drawings >_< that iv'e done.
Welcome to the Suicide Circus
Welcome!
I hope you all enjoy yourselves
As the people that gathered here
Have done so for your entertainment
Feel free to just
sit back
Watch
And laugh
As we all leisurely kill ourselves
Enjoy!
__________________________________________________________________
Welcome to the Suicide Circus
Welcome!
I hope you all enjoy yourselves
As the people that gathered here
Have done so for your entertainment
Feel free to just
sit back
Watch
And laugh
As we all leisurely kill ourselves
Enjoy!
Farewell
I lay in a hospital bed, strapped to wires, and a beeping monitor. The room had a smell of disinfectant and it felt like nothing near to home. The room was quiet and empty. Everything was white. Everything except the flowers he always brings me. They were a vibrant color of different hues, and it was the only thing that seemed to make this room lively.
Our first encounter was when he came to visit an injured friend, but he came into my room instead. I still remember his embarrassed face as he bowed with hair falling into his eyes while explaining and apologizing for coming into the wrong room. His face becoming scarlet as I laughed at his behavior. He then scratched the back of his head awkwardly and smiled at me. After that, he was never heard from again.
A few days later, after meeting him, a nurse gave me a bouquet of flowers and when I asked her who it was from, she'd smile and say it was from a friend. Somehow, I felt like I knew it was from him, but I continued to feign it and patiently waited for him to reveal himself. It was until a few months later that he came into my room and gave the flowers himself. I was ecstatic. After that, he would visit me every time he got the chance and when he couldn't make it, he would send me flowers with notes inside.
It has already been around two years since I met him and I'm still stuck in the hospital. I know that I don't have much time left, but... I just want to spend the rest of whats left of my time with him. I know it's selfish and I know that it's cruel for me to leave him and my family behind, but I too don't want to leave. It's inevitable. Despite that, I want to live normally and spend my life with him. He's the only friend I have since I was admitted to the hospital and the only one who visited me besides my parents.
Now that I think about it. The first time he met my parents was interesting. Rather than being like he normally was, he stuttered and was extremely polite. He was embarrassed and looked really nervous, because when he's nervous, he would scratch the back of his head while talking. My parents didn't really mind and were actually happy that he was keeping me company. After meeting my parents, I remember him letting out a deep sigh and slumped his shoulders. He then began to laugh and looked relieved as if a burden was taken away.
He was always so kind to me. Whenever I needed something, he would always tell me that he would do it. Even just the simplest tasks. There was even a time when he offered to feed me despite being embarrassed. His laugh. His smile. His honesty. His kindness.
I think.... I... L-
The monitor that kept track of my heart beat began to buzz in a high pitch. It was indicating that I didn't have much time left. I knew that it was my last, but before I go I wanted to tell him something. So I desperately tried to stay in this world. Selfishly, just to relay a message for myself.
My heart began to pound rapidly as I took gasps of air, unable to breathe. The nurses filed in as my parents were called. Among the commotion, I saw him run in out of breath. The fearful and painful look in his eyes. The eyes that pleaded me not to go. Looking at him, I smiled at him weakly and tears began to fall down his face. I wanted to tell him that it was alright.
Stretching my hands out towards him, he grabbed my hands. Taking a deep breath, I told him to smile in a barely audible voice. Without thinking about it, he tried to smile at me as best he could with tears running down his face. I then brought my hands up to his face to wipe his tears as tears also began to run down my face, causing his smile to falter.
Slowly, I felt my heart cease. My breathing becoming faint, and my eyes closing. He then grabbed my hands tighter, as if it would prevent me from leaving him. I heard him yell and shout, telling me not to leave and that... He loved me. He loved me?
Desperately trying to speak with my last breath, I removed the mask that was supposed to help me breathe and said to him,
"I love you."
_____
I lay in a hospital bed, strapped to wires, and a beeping monitor. The room had a smell of disinfectant and it felt like nothing near to home. The room was quiet and empty. Everything was white. Everything except the flowers he always brings me. They were a vibrant color of different hues, and it was the only thing that seemed to make this room lively.
Our first encounter was when he came to visit an injured friend, but he came into my room instead. I still remember his embarrassed face as he bowed with hair falling into his eyes while explaining and apologizing for coming into the wrong room. His face becoming scarlet as I laughed at his behavior. He then scratched the back of his head awkwardly and smiled at me. After that, he was never heard from again.
A few days later, after meeting him, a nurse gave me a bouquet of flowers and when I asked her who it was from, she'd smile and say it was from a friend. Somehow, I felt like I knew it was from him, but I continued to feign it and patiently waited for him to reveal himself. It was until a few months later that he came into my room and gave the flowers himself. I was ecstatic. After that, he would visit me every time he got the chance and when he couldn't make it, he would send me flowers with notes inside.
It has already been around two years since I met him and I'm still stuck in the hospital. I know that I don't have much time left, but... I just want to spend the rest of whats left of my time with him. I know it's selfish and I know that it's cruel for me to leave him and my family behind, but I too don't want to leave. It's inevitable. Despite that, I want to live normally and spend my life with him. He's the only friend I have since I was admitted to the hospital and the only one who visited me besides my parents.
Now that I think about it. The first time he met my parents was interesting. Rather than being like he normally was, he stuttered and was extremely polite. He was embarrassed and looked really nervous, because when he's nervous, he would scratch the back of his head while talking. My parents didn't really mind and were actually happy that he was keeping me company. After meeting my parents, I remember him letting out a deep sigh and slumped his shoulders. He then began to laugh and looked relieved as if a burden was taken away.
He was always so kind to me. Whenever I needed something, he would always tell me that he would do it. Even just the simplest tasks. There was even a time when he offered to feed me despite being embarrassed. His laugh. His smile. His honesty. His kindness.
I think.... I... L-
The monitor that kept track of my heart beat began to buzz in a high pitch. It was indicating that I didn't have much time left. I knew that it was my last, but before I go I wanted to tell him something. So I desperately tried to stay in this world. Selfishly, just to relay a message for myself.
My heart began to pound rapidly as I took gasps of air, unable to breathe. The nurses filed in as my parents were called. Among the commotion, I saw him run in out of breath. The fearful and painful look in his eyes. The eyes that pleaded me not to go. Looking at him, I smiled at him weakly and tears began to fall down his face. I wanted to tell him that it was alright.
Stretching my hands out towards him, he grabbed my hands. Taking a deep breath, I told him to smile in a barely audible voice. Without thinking about it, he tried to smile at me as best he could with tears running down his face. I then brought my hands up to his face to wipe his tears as tears also began to run down my face, causing his smile to falter.
Slowly, I felt my heart cease. My breathing becoming faint, and my eyes closing. He then grabbed my hands tighter, as if it would prevent me from leaving him. I heard him yell and shout, telling me not to leave and that... He loved me. He loved me?
Desperately trying to speak with my last breath, I removed the mask that was supposed to help me breathe and said to him,
"I love you."
_____
Truth
I love my family, because were family and family should love each other no matter what. But why doesn't my family love me?
After the accident before summer break, things were really chaotic. I got injured, but I ended up fine right? After all, I'm still alive.
The things is, ever since that incident, my parents have been ignoring me. I guess they got really mad and worried when I got hurt. So I apologized. Every day. When they woke up in the morning, before they went to bed, and when they came home from work, I said...
"I'm sorry"
But they still ignored me. Were they that upset with me? To the point where they couldn't even look at me? Did they not love me anymore?
It's already almost the end of summer and iv'e been apologizing to my parents with every chance I got. It basically became a routine for me.
Today, my parents wore all black. It wasn't fancy, but it was slightly formal.
I asked them, "What's wrong? Why are you dressed like that?" But, they didn't answer.
I followed them as they stopped to buy a bouquet of flowers. They then stood in front of the cemetery, holding each other for support, grief written all over their faces.
"Mom, dad. Why are we visiting the grave? Did someone die?" I asked them. They didn't answer like always and neither did they look at me. Their expressions were sullen, as they held on to the bouquet of flowers, holding in tears that were threatening to fall.
I don't remember who died on this day. Was it a recent family member? Or was it a friend? Who died to make them this way? I followed them, curious as to who died and they didn't utter a single word. We passed by certain graves until they stopped in front of a certain one, making me bump into them.
'No' I shook my head. This can't be... "Is this some kind of joke?!" I asked them. They weren't joking. Taking my hand, I shoved it through their stomach... Nothing happened. They didn't feel a thing. Standing in front of them, tears began to fall.
"Ah, I see now... I was dead from the very beginning. It was me who died. I'm sorry."
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I love my family, because were family and family should love each other no matter what. But why doesn't my family love me?
After the accident before summer break, things were really chaotic. I got injured, but I ended up fine right? After all, I'm still alive.
The things is, ever since that incident, my parents have been ignoring me. I guess they got really mad and worried when I got hurt. So I apologized. Every day. When they woke up in the morning, before they went to bed, and when they came home from work, I said...
"I'm sorry"
But they still ignored me. Were they that upset with me? To the point where they couldn't even look at me? Did they not love me anymore?
It's already almost the end of summer and iv'e been apologizing to my parents with every chance I got. It basically became a routine for me.
Today, my parents wore all black. It wasn't fancy, but it was slightly formal.
I asked them, "What's wrong? Why are you dressed like that?" But, they didn't answer.
I followed them as they stopped to buy a bouquet of flowers. They then stood in front of the cemetery, holding each other for support, grief written all over their faces.
"Mom, dad. Why are we visiting the grave? Did someone die?" I asked them. They didn't answer like always and neither did they look at me. Their expressions were sullen, as they held on to the bouquet of flowers, holding in tears that were threatening to fall.
I don't remember who died on this day. Was it a recent family member? Or was it a friend? Who died to make them this way? I followed them, curious as to who died and they didn't utter a single word. We passed by certain graves until they stopped in front of a certain one, making me bump into them.
'No' I shook my head. This can't be... "Is this some kind of joke?!" I asked them. They weren't joking. Taking my hand, I shoved it through their stomach... Nothing happened. They didn't feel a thing. Standing in front of them, tears began to fall.
"Ah, I see now... I was dead from the very beginning. It was me who died. I'm sorry."
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Sleep
I'm just an average student with average grades, but being average isn't tolerated. My parents have high expectations and they expect me to follow with it. Especially since we don't come from a wealthy family, education is important.
I try my hardest in school, honestly. Although, just trying hard won't make me any less average. Just trying hard is not acceptable.
To bring home a graded paper, is making hell break loose in our small broken down apartment. They scold me like there's no tomorrow. Saying how they're tired and sick of having to look after me. In the middle of their speech, they begin to rant about their own lives. They tell me that their job isn't doing well and that they have to work overtime. Complaining about how stressed and exhausted they are and they blame it all on me.
Ever since things have been going horrible with their jobs, home hasn't been very peaceful. Not that has been before anyways.
Every time they come home from work, they would vent out all their anger on me. After all, I'm an only child. They don't have anyone else but me to take out their stress and frustration. Once that phase is over, they apologize to me with a tired expression. Black bags under their eyes, swollen and droopy. Hair tangled, greasy and messy. Clothes smelly, wrinkled and soiled.
They tell me to understand and that they don't mean it. They say that it's to make me happy and that everything they do is for me. For my future. For my happiness.
I never really see my parents. We don't interact with each other much either, besides lecturing me and using me as their stress reliever.
Today, I got my report card. All I can say, is that they won't be happy. I walk home a lot slower than usual, predicting the events of what might take place when I show them my grades.
"Why?" My mom asks me, while waving the slip of paper that holds my fate in her hands. "I thought I taught you to be better than this!" She never taught me anything. She was always too busy.
"We work overtime to pay for your meals, shelter, clothes, and school... Is this how you repay us?" My father jumps in.
"I'm sick and tired of looking after you" my mother finally says, rubbing her temples with her hands. Throwing the paper on the ground, they walk into their rooms, closing the door behind them.
I knew they wouldn't take it well. Picking up the slip of paper, I scan through it: English-A, Physical Education-A, French-A, Math-B, and Chemistry-C. It isn't that bad... Is it?
Sighing, I felt that I was mentally exhausted. Exhausted from the pressure and expectations I couldn't reach. My feelings felt overwhelming. I didn't know if I was frustrated, sad, or mad. I just felt like I needed to do something. Something for my parents maybe. They did say they were always tired. I should let them rest.
Yes... I'll let them rest, so they'll never feel tired again, I thought as I hovered over them and plunged a knife into their heart. They opened their eyes wide and gasped for breath. I just smiled innocently as I shut their eyes with my blood stained hands.
"Now, you can rest for as long as you want. You won't be tired anymore either... Right?"
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I'm just an average student with average grades, but being average isn't tolerated. My parents have high expectations and they expect me to follow with it. Especially since we don't come from a wealthy family, education is important.
I try my hardest in school, honestly. Although, just trying hard won't make me any less average. Just trying hard is not acceptable.
To bring home a graded paper, is making hell break loose in our small broken down apartment. They scold me like there's no tomorrow. Saying how they're tired and sick of having to look after me. In the middle of their speech, they begin to rant about their own lives. They tell me that their job isn't doing well and that they have to work overtime. Complaining about how stressed and exhausted they are and they blame it all on me.
Ever since things have been going horrible with their jobs, home hasn't been very peaceful. Not that has been before anyways.
Every time they come home from work, they would vent out all their anger on me. After all, I'm an only child. They don't have anyone else but me to take out their stress and frustration. Once that phase is over, they apologize to me with a tired expression. Black bags under their eyes, swollen and droopy. Hair tangled, greasy and messy. Clothes smelly, wrinkled and soiled.
They tell me to understand and that they don't mean it. They say that it's to make me happy and that everything they do is for me. For my future. For my happiness.
I never really see my parents. We don't interact with each other much either, besides lecturing me and using me as their stress reliever.
Today, I got my report card. All I can say, is that they won't be happy. I walk home a lot slower than usual, predicting the events of what might take place when I show them my grades.
"Why?" My mom asks me, while waving the slip of paper that holds my fate in her hands. "I thought I taught you to be better than this!" She never taught me anything. She was always too busy.
"We work overtime to pay for your meals, shelter, clothes, and school... Is this how you repay us?" My father jumps in.
"I'm sick and tired of looking after you" my mother finally says, rubbing her temples with her hands. Throwing the paper on the ground, they walk into their rooms, closing the door behind them.
I knew they wouldn't take it well. Picking up the slip of paper, I scan through it: English-A, Physical Education-A, French-A, Math-B, and Chemistry-C. It isn't that bad... Is it?
Sighing, I felt that I was mentally exhausted. Exhausted from the pressure and expectations I couldn't reach. My feelings felt overwhelming. I didn't know if I was frustrated, sad, or mad. I just felt like I needed to do something. Something for my parents maybe. They did say they were always tired. I should let them rest.
Yes... I'll let them rest, so they'll never feel tired again, I thought as I hovered over them and plunged a knife into their heart. They opened their eyes wide and gasped for breath. I just smiled innocently as I shut their eyes with my blood stained hands.
"Now, you can rest for as long as you want. You won't be tired anymore either... Right?"
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Whispers Gone Silent
I just go by everyday with the same routine. An ordinary life. A normal person.
My parents often tell me advice about school. Just ignore people who make fun of you. Put up with it for a little while longer. The hardship will only last for a short while. I did just that. I did exactly what they told me to do. But I couldn't do it for any longer...
As always, I took the same path to the gates of the school. Seeing and passing the same people. The people who always stand by and watch me. Pointing at me with their mocking eyes. I hear them whisper, a whisper that was meant for me to hear. Even though I didn't want to hear it.
I tried... But to truly ignore something, I would have to go def. I didn't want to hear anymore. I wanted them to be quiet. I hated the sounds of them whispering, despite knowing that I could hear. It was as if they wanted me to purposefully suffer.
I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted them to stop. I wanted them all to stop talking... So I silenced them.
It was a wonderful sight. A satisfying sound. It was the sound of silence. Their throats slit open, and their bodies limp. It was amazing. I never felt better. Now, I won't have to hear their voices. Just the sound of their silence.
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I just go by everyday with the same routine. An ordinary life. A normal person.
My parents often tell me advice about school. Just ignore people who make fun of you. Put up with it for a little while longer. The hardship will only last for a short while. I did just that. I did exactly what they told me to do. But I couldn't do it for any longer...
As always, I took the same path to the gates of the school. Seeing and passing the same people. The people who always stand by and watch me. Pointing at me with their mocking eyes. I hear them whisper, a whisper that was meant for me to hear. Even though I didn't want to hear it.
I tried... But to truly ignore something, I would have to go def. I didn't want to hear anymore. I wanted them to be quiet. I hated the sounds of them whispering, despite knowing that I could hear. It was as if they wanted me to purposefully suffer.
I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted them to stop. I wanted them all to stop talking... So I silenced them.
It was a wonderful sight. A satisfying sound. It was the sound of silence. Their throats slit open, and their bodies limp. It was amazing. I never felt better. Now, I won't have to hear their voices. Just the sound of their silence.
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(Wrote this for english class)
Forgotten Reality
"He's dead asleep" a few people surrounding the boy said, "This is for the best."
The town is engulfed in dancing flames as if it were hell. In the middle of the chaos stands a boy, laughing hysterically with desire in his eyes. He wanted more. He loved the sounds of screams and the smell of rotting flesh and the color of crimson blood surrounding him. No matter what, this wasn't enough.
Hearing a muffled cry behind him, he turned around to see a young girl staring at the scene with eyes wide with fear. "Murder," was all she said in a barely audible voice while tears streamed down her face. The boy looked at her and grinned widely making the young girl shiver. "You killed them" she said, "Why? Why did you kill them?" She yelled while lunging towards him. The boy simply pushed her with ease and she fell to the ground. The young girl then realized how vulnerable and helpless she was. "Please, don't kill me" her voice wavered as she pleaded him.
"Don't kill you? Do you really expect me to let you live just by saying, 'Don't kill me'?" He spoke, mocking her. Taking a lighter, he waved it in front of her face. She then sat still knowing that she had nowhere to hide and that she couldn't out run a boy. Waiting for her death, she stared at the flames as if she were entranced by the beauty of it. The boy brought the lighter closer to her face and lit her hair on fire. As the girl screamed in agony while her hair burned and her skin melted, the boy just stood there watching with pleasure.
"Are you in your right state of mind?" A voice asked from the shadows. "Who are you?" The boy asked, turning towards the sound of the voice. "You don't belong here. Go back" it said. The boy then felt a massive headache and fell to the ground. "What's happening? What did you do to me?" The boy demanded as his vision began to fade. "You don't belong... Leave" it replied.
The opened his eyes slowly to see that he was in a dark room lying in a bed. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he scanned the room. It was empty. There was only one window next to the bed he was lying in, a door, and a table. 'It's dark out, so it must be night' he thought. He the then remembered that he had a headache before he collapsed and wondered who did it to him and where he was brought.
"Am I dreaming?" He asked no one in particular. "I don't like this place, I need to go back" He said trying to find a way to escape, but the door was and the windows were locked shut. There was no way out. Giving up, he sat in the corner of the room and began to claw at his skin in frustration until it bled. He continued this until the night left and morning arrived.
"What are you doing? Stop that!" A lady shouted at him. The boy looked up at her noticing her in his room for the first time. "He's awake" said a man in a monotone voice. "Who are you?" The boy asked them. They then looked at him with teary eyes. "We're your parents. Don't you recognize us?" The lady asked. "I don't know you! Get out!" He shouted at them, "But-" "Don't provoke me or i'll murder you" the boy said in a low and dangerous voice. His so called parents looked at him one last time with sadness in their eyes as they walked out of the room.
"This is a nightmare. This must be a nightmare. I killed my parents. They shouldn't be alive." He mumbled, clutching his head in his hands. Noticing a knife next to an apple on a table his so called parents brought, he picked it up and held the knife in his hands. "Only one way to find out whether this is real or not" he said to himself. Raising the knife in the air, he brought it to his heart. Feeling the pain take over as blood spilled out from his chest, he smiled to himself. "So this isn't a nightmare after all."
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Forgotten Reality
"He's dead asleep" a few people surrounding the boy said, "This is for the best."
The town is engulfed in dancing flames as if it were hell. In the middle of the chaos stands a boy, laughing hysterically with desire in his eyes. He wanted more. He loved the sounds of screams and the smell of rotting flesh and the color of crimson blood surrounding him. No matter what, this wasn't enough.
Hearing a muffled cry behind him, he turned around to see a young girl staring at the scene with eyes wide with fear. "Murder," was all she said in a barely audible voice while tears streamed down her face. The boy looked at her and grinned widely making the young girl shiver. "You killed them" she said, "Why? Why did you kill them?" She yelled while lunging towards him. The boy simply pushed her with ease and she fell to the ground. The young girl then realized how vulnerable and helpless she was. "Please, don't kill me" her voice wavered as she pleaded him.
"Don't kill you? Do you really expect me to let you live just by saying, 'Don't kill me'?" He spoke, mocking her. Taking a lighter, he waved it in front of her face. She then sat still knowing that she had nowhere to hide and that she couldn't out run a boy. Waiting for her death, she stared at the flames as if she were entranced by the beauty of it. The boy brought the lighter closer to her face and lit her hair on fire. As the girl screamed in agony while her hair burned and her skin melted, the boy just stood there watching with pleasure.
"Are you in your right state of mind?" A voice asked from the shadows. "Who are you?" The boy asked, turning towards the sound of the voice. "You don't belong here. Go back" it said. The boy then felt a massive headache and fell to the ground. "What's happening? What did you do to me?" The boy demanded as his vision began to fade. "You don't belong... Leave" it replied.
The opened his eyes slowly to see that he was in a dark room lying in a bed. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he scanned the room. It was empty. There was only one window next to the bed he was lying in, a door, and a table. 'It's dark out, so it must be night' he thought. He the then remembered that he had a headache before he collapsed and wondered who did it to him and where he was brought.
"Am I dreaming?" He asked no one in particular. "I don't like this place, I need to go back" He said trying to find a way to escape, but the door was and the windows were locked shut. There was no way out. Giving up, he sat in the corner of the room and began to claw at his skin in frustration until it bled. He continued this until the night left and morning arrived.
"What are you doing? Stop that!" A lady shouted at him. The boy looked up at her noticing her in his room for the first time. "He's awake" said a man in a monotone voice. "Who are you?" The boy asked them. They then looked at him with teary eyes. "We're your parents. Don't you recognize us?" The lady asked. "I don't know you! Get out!" He shouted at them, "But-" "Don't provoke me or i'll murder you" the boy said in a low and dangerous voice. His so called parents looked at him one last time with sadness in their eyes as they walked out of the room.
"This is a nightmare. This must be a nightmare. I killed my parents. They shouldn't be alive." He mumbled, clutching his head in his hands. Noticing a knife next to an apple on a table his so called parents brought, he picked it up and held the knife in his hands. "Only one way to find out whether this is real or not" he said to himself. Raising the knife in the air, he brought it to his heart. Feeling the pain take over as blood spilled out from his chest, he smiled to himself. "So this isn't a nightmare after all."
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(Another I wrote for english class)
Solitary Departure
In a deserted, cold, and noiseless factory, barely lit by the moon reflecting through the windows, a young boy lay on the bloodstained cement floor, surrounded by his own blood while sobbing. Most people would think that he cried from the excruciating pain of his gaping wound, but he actually cried because he knew that no one would miss him. The fact that no one bothered to look for him, made him feel insignificant and unwanted. Even if he lived, no one would take notice of his existence. His dilatory breathing and coughing reverberated throughout the room, filling the silence. His fist clenched tightly from the excruciating affliction. He takes profound, laggard breaths to settle himself. With the last of his potency, he pulls himself up, only to fall back down with a thud from the impact. He attempted to get up again, only to fail as he did the first time. Letting out a deep sigh, he lays down exhausted from his futile attempts. Giving up all hope, he rolls over on his back to stare intently at the dull grey ceiling.
Bringing his left hand up, he covers his eyes with them. Gradually, his breathing grows slower and weaker. Taking his other hand, he brings it to his tattered, raw, flesh on his stomach, covering his hands with the crimson blood. The putrid odor of his raw flesh fills the room, causing him to gag. With one deep breath, he coughed up a metallic fluid that lingered in his mouth. Gazing at the luminescent moon, for the last time, he closed his eyes. He knew that no one would come to look for him. No one would even bother to care. Wiping his tear stained face, he willingly let his life slip away. The beating heart of his that pounded fervently for him to live ceased, and his body lay lifeless in the abandoned factory unfound.
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Solitary Departure
In a deserted, cold, and noiseless factory, barely lit by the moon reflecting through the windows, a young boy lay on the bloodstained cement floor, surrounded by his own blood while sobbing. Most people would think that he cried from the excruciating pain of his gaping wound, but he actually cried because he knew that no one would miss him. The fact that no one bothered to look for him, made him feel insignificant and unwanted. Even if he lived, no one would take notice of his existence. His dilatory breathing and coughing reverberated throughout the room, filling the silence. His fist clenched tightly from the excruciating affliction. He takes profound, laggard breaths to settle himself. With the last of his potency, he pulls himself up, only to fall back down with a thud from the impact. He attempted to get up again, only to fail as he did the first time. Letting out a deep sigh, he lays down exhausted from his futile attempts. Giving up all hope, he rolls over on his back to stare intently at the dull grey ceiling.
Bringing his left hand up, he covers his eyes with them. Gradually, his breathing grows slower and weaker. Taking his other hand, he brings it to his tattered, raw, flesh on his stomach, covering his hands with the crimson blood. The putrid odor of his raw flesh fills the room, causing him to gag. With one deep breath, he coughed up a metallic fluid that lingered in his mouth. Gazing at the luminescent moon, for the last time, he closed his eyes. He knew that no one would come to look for him. No one would even bother to care. Wiping his tear stained face, he willingly let his life slip away. The beating heart of his that pounded fervently for him to live ceased, and his body lay lifeless in the abandoned factory unfound.
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