Hope you don't mind major character death, but I had a sudden idea so I just had to jot it down real fast and put it up on Fanfiction before I forgot :3 Poor Dib. He's so misunderstood.
They tell me I'm insane. They tell me that I'm out of my mind, that I'm crazy, psychotic…schizophrenic. I'm scorned and hated in my school, in my home, by everyone I've ever come to know. I've never been loved, never been wanted, and I've never been listened to, all because I'm just a little different. All because I believe in things other people are too stupid to know are real.
My father calls me an embarrassment. He wants me to be the leader of his scientific organization, but that's not my dream. I heard him gloating once to various world leaders that I was going to take over his position when I'm older, like he was proud, but I don't want to. I embarrass him constantly because I know that ghosts and aliens are real things. Alternate dimensions, Bigfoot, unidentified creatures – they're all real. I know it.
But he doesn't think so. I've lost count of all the times he's tried to talk me out of being a paranormal investigator—my life's dream, I might add—and all the arguments we've had together. I'm sick of him calling me insane and I'm tired of him trying to push me into his branch of science. He shoves it down my throat, telling me that I have to be this and that I have to be that, and that I have no choice because I'm his son and he's my father.
But I'm not a sheep. I hate him. I hate my sister, who's oblivious to the world. Her best friend is a cold electronic. I hate school where the bullies shove me around and the teachers ignore me. I hate walking down the streets because people stare at me. My father will hardly even go out into public with me because he's humiliated that I'm his child.
Well, maybe they'll miss me, or maybe they won't. I've been so sad for so long that I can't stand it anymore. I don't want to be here. I was born in the wrong family, in the wrong place, at the wrong time, in the wrong society, and even the wrong body. I just want it to stop.
I'm aware of the tears on my cheeks as I flip the frigid metal over and over in my hands. It's heavy and cold to the touch. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest out of nervousness, but I've already made my decision. I'm done. I'm just so done with everything.
I left a note on the small table next to my bed. I kept the door unlocked to save my father and sister trouble when they hear the shot go off. The letter was a genuinely sorrow one, explaining to them that I'm sorry I had to go, and I explicitly detailed why I couldn't go on anymore. They'll understand. They're part of the reason why I'm going to kill myself.
Like I said earlier, maybe they'll miss me, or maybe not. I hope they do. If they don't, then I guess that's fine, too. I'll be one less burden for them to worry about. I'll be out of the way. I won't embarrass Dad anymore. He'll also come to realize that he can't make me be something I don't want to be. I'll admit that part of this is intended as revenge, but my true motive was to attain peace. I wanted the depression to go away. I wanted to be happy.
Shaking and eyes wide, I put the mouth of the pistol up to the side of my head. I was wearing my usual attire; black trench, black boots, black pants, and blue shirt with a neutral-faced smiley. It was just good old me, one human out of seven billion.
My hand is trembling. I'm hyperventilating. Don't worry, Dib, I tell myself. It isn't going to hurt one bit. I squeeze my eyes shut, tighter and tighter, and then I hold my breath suddenly. I pull the trigger of the gun.
Guess Dad's gonna need another kid to take over the Membrane labs now.