It latched onto him like a parasite, knowing he could not get rid of it and it reveled in the knowledge. An infinite being of darkness that carried an invisible weight as it loomed over him and followed his every move. Most of the time it was only a presence that lingered in the corner of his mind, but sometimes it would extend its presence to envelop him. In those moments, he could only desperately try to stay afloat among the darkness of his mind.
He supposed it was only a matter of time before it all became too much. Slowly his reasons to live became meaningless and he found himself wondering why he was still alive. To make sure the stray cat that visited the park in his neighborhood was fed? To see the new episode of a hero analysis that aired every Saturday night? To see the full moon one more time and feel the way he did when he looked up to the night sky, feeling like he was nothing but a speck of life among the vast space of the universe. It somehow soothed him to know how insignificant everything was when compared to the infinite space around him.
Ah, he really would miss that feeling. That was something he couldn't deny.
He carefully balanced the weight on the almost closed door and made sure the string could support the weight. After making sure his final letter explained enough without sounding too winey, Izuku stepped down from the chair and placed it back at his desk. He didn't want to dwell around too long or his timeframe would be short for what he wanted to accomplish. With one final glance at the ajar door, Izuku wished for a single moment that his mother would call the ambulance as he asked her to do in the letter.
He pushed his bed toward the door to block the entrance. Most importantly block his mother from entering, thus having to call for help. As selfish as he was, Izuku did not want his mother to be the one to fine his lifeless body.
The thick rope was already attached to the corner of his bed when he gave his bedroom one final glance. It was for the better, Izuku reassured himself. Everything would be better without him around. He placed the noose around him and slowly lowered himself to the ground. Due to the lowness of his bed, he knew his death would be a slow strangulation and allowed his body to relax so the weight would block his airflow.
It was painful. He could feel his legs, arms shaking. The itchy rope was digging into him and he knew it would leave a deep blue mark upon his death.
He no longer wanted to think. It hurt to think and it hurt to live. Soon it would all be over.
Soon….
He awoke with a strangled gasp. Very quickly his distorted sight returned to normal, with widly shaking hands, Izuku touched his neck and found it sunk around the rope. He didn't understand. He was sure- he was so sure it would work. He began picking at the deformed flesh as he rose and removed the rope from his bed. Something had gone wrong, but what?
It took approximately six minutes for brain cells to die, beyond that point there would be brain damage. By ten minutes the cells would cease functioning.
With tears threatening to spill out of his eyes, Izuku looked at the time.
Eighteen minutes had passed since he hung himself. Why wasn't he dead? He didn't understand.
In a daze, Izuku hid the rope under his bed along with the letter he snatched off the door and stalked to the bathroom.
He should be dead. The skin that was under the rope evened out and with morbid fascination, Izuku watched in the bathroom mirror as the unnatural color faded out of it and replaced it with a faint pink line which moments later was gone.
The front door jingled and Izuku darted out of the bathroom and peaked out to see his mother, smiling, placing groceries on the kitchen table. She was so loving that his tainted soul burned in her presence,
"I'm home." His mother said, not knowing that just moments ago Izuku had been trying to end his life.
"Welcome home." He was an ungrateful son.
He would try again. Next time he wouldn't fail.