This was his favorite time of year. The ground was covered in the leaves that had fallen from their home in the trees. It had been a while since it last rained so the leaves crunched under the slightest pressure. For his entire life, that sound had been one of his favorite but now, all he wanted was for the crunching to stop. As he lay on his back, the crunching continued as the stain slowly spread from him. The colors of autumn that surrounded him were soon dyed red. His pale hand curled around the nearest bloodstained leaf and held it tight. No one would find him here; he knew that for a fact. It was getting late and his parents thought he was spending the night at his friends while his friends thought he was sick and staying home that night.
He didn't like lying to them, he never did, but it had to be done. He couldn't risk them getting hurt like he did. Fuck his hero complex.
So there he was, bleeding out onto the leaves with no chance at being rescued. Blinking blood from his eyes, he drew in a ragged breath and waited for death to come. Again.
God, how he hated the color red.