It's 2:00 am, he lays awake in bed contemplating life.
Should he stay or should he go?
Will they even notice he's gone?
He cries for help but they dismiss him time and time again.
He takes a letter out of his drawer...
his suicide note... he has known this day would come for a while now...
slowly he gets out of bed and makes his way downstairs to the safe...
he opens it and reaches in with a trembling hand and grabs the gun.
All he ever wanted was to be loved.
His moms love left him covered in bruises, what she liked to call tough love. His dad just told him to man up.
At school he painted a smile on his face and told everyone he was fine, but on the inside he wanted to scream I'm not ok can't you see I'm slowly crumbling...
Now he raises the gun to his head and counts.
1. He tries to think of the good times... there are none
2. He puts his finger on the trigger
3. He whispers a silent goodbye
It's 2:15 the police arrive maybe now somebody will love him.


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