"I was unable to deal with the pain"

Matthew sat upon the balcony, listening to his music and watching people as they strolled by. Some laughed with others; business men strolled by with stern looks upon their faces; moms frantically about hoping that they wouldn't miss an important meeting or event. This was a normal situation for the Canadian, like really, who would care that the meek boy was watching them, no one noticed him anyways. The boy sighed as a new song came flooding into his ears. "I took a pistol from the closet, I loaded a round, opened my mouth, Closed my mouth, said goodbye, and 'click'." Hurt had become one of his favorite bandssince he had stumbled across them on youtube, after trying to find another band, whom he forgotten the name of. Taking a drink from his cup, he held the hot liquid in his mouth, letting it burn his tongue. He swallowed sharply when he heard a loud bang from below him.

"The weight of the world was amusing to some."

Alfred had slammed the door behind him when he walked out of the house. Putting one arm pointing towards the sky and one on his hip, "The hero will go to this party that you have strung up Igg!" he yelled into the sky. He then ran down the street, yelling something about McDonalds, and having to eat his heart out before being forced to eat Arthur's cooking.

"No one ever really could love me"

Another sigh escaped Matthew's lips. Another day, another party that everybody forgot to invite him to. It's not like this was a sudden occurrence, this happened all his life. This was his life. Ignored by the people who he thought had loved him, he was even ignored by his snow white polar bear, Kumojiko, was it? He tilted his head down, letting his hair fall in front of his face. "No one even knows who I am." Tears had started to well in his eyes and fall down his cheeks. "No one would even care if I'm gone," he muttered under his breath. Lifting up his sleeves, he took a long look at the purple, red, and faded scars on his arms. "I'm pathetic," he whispered letting his tears fall onto his arms, making them glisten. "What's a life when no one cares enough to know you, not even your brother whom you live with?" the boy thought to himself. Looking towards the sky, Matthew ran his fingers through his hair. Letting out another sigh, he gulped down his now warm drink and trudged back into his room.

"No one ever would."

Matthew grabbed the nearest knife he could find, which was Alfred's butterfly knife, and flicked it open. He slammed open the bathroom door and walked in. He couldn't help but stare into the mirror at himself. "My, aren't you just the cry baby," his reflection laughed, mocking him. In a fit of rage, Matthew smashed his fist into the mirror, sending shards past his face and onto the floor. "And the shame of this will haunt me...Then I made my choice to," rolled into his ears from his headphones. Choking up, Matthew removed his dark red jersey hoodie, and put the blade up to his chest. Slowly, shallow bloody wounds opened up on his chest in the words of "I'm here." Flinching as he made the last cut on his chest, Matthew brought the blade to his wrist. Quickly, he created a gash along the pale skin. Watching the red ooze out of his wound, he smiled and made the copy on his other wrist. Falling to his knees, the boy felt the shards of glass enter his skin. Yelping, he fell back and slouched against the wall. "Alfred will have to find me, it's his blade after all," Matthew thought as his vision of the bathroom blurred frantically. He slumped his shoulders forward and lowered his head.

"I took a pistol from the closet, Loaded a round, opened my mouth , closed my eyes, said "goodbye" and 'CLICK'."