"Hello again, citizens of San Fransokyo. Once again, th-this is my.." a raven paused to tilt the blurry camera now that's it's focused on the sole boy sitting in the wooden chair. The room was tight, it was small, and it was dark. The only light other then the nightstand on the wooden cafe table is the glint in Hiro's eyes. He adjusted the camera lens, zooming into his face. Hiro glanced at the gun near the door, and continued talking to the camera.
".. 20th suicide attempt. I have been a victim of the harsh fangs of living a teenage live without a family, a family that doesn't adopt me as a prodigy. I hope by the time I am dead, in my 21th suicide attempt, I'll be long gone. So please remember me, as the boy who gave up living by feeding on technology and electricity." The raven teen stood up from the chair and walked to the gun lying in the cold wooden floor, he picked up the loaded gun, not knowing how to use it, he triggered it and shot himself in the head.
The camera was still far away, as it wasn't turned off, but automatically later it did from loss of battery and loss of memory, Hiro pale body lied underneath a pool of blood that reached the entrance of his basement. His pupils weren't there, and his mouth was hung open.
And then no one remembered him, and everyone took it as one of the cases where someone just gave up on life, like it's rare nowadays. Or maybe, this century people adore lives. Maybe if Hiro went back in time, he could meet geniuses, who made electricity, and those people who didn't have to use chips for every damn single thing. Maybe they would work for their work, work hard, and efforts that took one man in San Fransokyo a billion years to create, but he didn't believe that. Life was no simple concept, and to San Fransokyo citizen it was. Just not to Hiro, as Hiro was one in the million to understand.
The funeral was held, not many people came, not many came early either, and all of them left way a little early then they should go. None of them cared about Hiro, he was just another boy who had lost his life because of an 'accident', hiding the truth from all the citizen. Nobody'll care about you, nobody cared about him. So why are you living? To keep who happy, your wife? Family? But why exactly, living a bad life as it is. You just need release, so do it, it's painless.
How about being hit by a train, straight through the heart, and not the head. You won't feel a thing, huh? What are you so scared of? Going to hell? OK, but at least this life sucked right? Way more worse then hell. Stop crying silently inside, and release yourself from all the pain.