Warning: Spoilers, sensitive subject (Suicide)
His bullets are his lullaby.
His gun is his music box.
Now, he's gonna use his gun and bullets to go night night forever.
His teacher is his dad, the one that keeps telling him to stop falling asleep during class.
The dad that looks through his eyes.
And keeps stopping him from using lullabies and music boxes.
But the boy uses them anyway.
Now, the boy takes off his glasses and it still looks like his eyes are made of glass.
So dull and confused.
He's got nothing left, for he has abandoned what kept him up.
He abandoned everything for the words "I don't know."
Pull the trigger, is all he needs to do.
Pull the trigger, it all comes down to you.
Pull the trigger, and you'll feel like your mother too.
Hold on tight to that gun, boy, your hands keep shaking.
Your breathing keeps getting hotter and dryer, as sweat starts to form.
Close your eyes, the world you've created doesn't want to see what you're going to do.
Don't try thinking of anything, it'll hold you back.
Your dreams, your friends, and your family, forget it all.
Hush, don't let tears decorate your already red eyes again.
Those will only distract you from the lullaby that will go through your head.
Hush now, this time you won't wake up in bed.
Hush, we swear it'll take you far.
This crying and shaking you're doing now won't be a problem once you're dead.
If and when you wake up, be ready to run, because you'll be on a highway, on your way to hell, but you'll be the only one without a car.
If you make it, make sure to meet your teacher, face to face.
He'll surely give you a gaze.
The boy took in a gasp of forced fresh air, his hands shaking, his eyes watering, he kept thinking about what if's and what could he do, that's the problem.
That's your obstacle, boy.
Stop thinking. Do it. It'll make things easier.
The boy, with his shaking hand, firmly put the gun next to his head, and with a jerk, he pulled the trigger.
Though, the sound of his lullaby wasn't heard by anyone but himself.