It's over, I can't do this anymore. I looked at my puppets, the large lifelike ones that had taken me years to create, to the small ones that amused and entertained my friends, well when I had friends. They's all become so distant now, I don't remember if it was me, or them, no now that I think about it, it was definitely me, all my fault, just like everything else in my life was. I sat on my bed, fingering the razor my grandmother's brother, my uncle? Kept in the bathroom, I have no idea why she let him live with us. He was old and creepy looking, but hey, it appeared as if for once, he could be useful.

I looked at my wrists.

How hard could it be?

Just one little cut, like in the movies.

Not hard at all.

And yet they were watching me.I put the razor down, once again looking around my room, the note I'd written weeks earlier from my first attempt was on my desk, but I was such a damn coward! I could barely place the razor against my skin, the skin on my wrists begging to be cut, and yet every time! The picture of my family, my mom and dad, they both look at me, the smiles on their faces, holding a toddler me in their arms. It's almost unbelievable that only a year has gone by, since they were both killed. They'd been in 9/11.

It had been one of their honeymoons.

I lost count.

I wanted them back.

It all seems like a dream, back only a year ago where my Grandmother began teaching my how to make puppets. I was good at my work, but I made some mistakes, and she told me I was a bit impatient. Well I was fifteen, honestly what did she suspect, that I had all the time in the world? Yet, it was fun, and it got my mind off waiting for my parents. Then, I'd come home one day to find my Grandmother crying, she was such a strong woman, it was hard to see her cry, even my uncle was there, and when I'd came in they both looked at me.

And then he told me

He didn't hide it.

Didn't use funny words.

He was blunt.

"Your parents are dead."

I think that's where everything started. I didn't cry at their funeral, I couldn't, I didn't know why, people said it was the shock.

I walked out of my room and into the bathroom, the blade clutched tightly in my hand, maybe I was in the wrong setting. In the movies, it was always in a tub, or a shower, I didn't know the science of it. I placed the razor on the side of the tub, and began to fill it with warm water. I even added some bubble bath, if this was going to be the last thing I did in my life I was at least going to enjoy it.

The memories flowed back. I was in shock, but that wasn't the depth of my problem. I still did my work in school, hung out with friends, everyone thought I'd taken it so well, but I hadn't. It had been the first time I'd picked up a puppet tool, thinking to use it, for another use. It was a sharp blade, it could do the job. And yet, they were still watching me, still there.

My eyes flicked up as the tub almost overflowed, I reached out and stopped it, then went in, clothes and all, figuring they'd absorb some of the water. They billowed out, filling the tub with the green glow of my sweatshirt, my pants the dark blue jeans sticking out. I felt a smirk of amusement go to my face, the last smile I'd ever have. Then I went for the blade, positioning it on my didn't hurt.

When I opened my eyes the blood was drooling from the cut, becoming a normal gush that brought a faint smile to my face. It was almost done, I'd be able to join them, and even if I wasn't the pain would finally leave forever. The other wrist was just as easy, and with that I placed one wrist deep in the water, the other went over the side of the tub. I don't know how long I sat there until my mind went fuzzy, that I knew I was finally going to join them.

Then the door opened.

I was an idiot! How could I forget that one little thing, oh well no way to fix it now. I was already gone, I could hear her screaming, someone yanking me out of the tub. Damn if that was the old woman she was stronger than I thought! I slipped from her grip and felt my head crack against the side of the tub, and I felt blood begin to trickle down my eye, making my vision red on one side. Then I blacked out, what I hoped would be forever.

My head was throbbing. It was the first thought that registered in my mind. I went to open my eyes, only to have a bright light make me shut them again, then they began to adapt, and I began to realize something. The bright light wasn't the light of heaven, or the fires of hell.

I was in a hospital.

I failed.

Even worse there was something restraining my arms, not just the bandages that were wrapped around them, but as I lifted my head, before the dizziness caused me to place my head back down.

I was restrained.

Two pieces of cloth were tied to my wrists, holding me down.

"We're going to get you help Sasori." came a sobbing wail, my Grandmother? "I promise Sasori, we'll get you help."

And that's how I ended up here. At some kind of hospital, our town was small, so they put anyone who needed help in one place, it was called Happy Leaf. If you used drugs and needed rehab, you went here. IF you had some kind of mental disability you went here. If you tried to hurt yourself, you went here. I wasn't surprised, yet I was kind of nervous. They hadn't allowed my Grandmother to come inside, saying that I needed to do this alone, it was my problem, not hers. The orderly was nice enough though, he'd gotten all my information from a hospital, so he just showed me to my room, of course he'd taken my stuff first.

Jerk, like I'd be that stupid, honestly did he think I was an idiot!

Oh, scratch that, he probably did.

Just like my Grandmother. I sighed and took a step into the room, only to stop, petrified at what I saw.

The room was normal, two beds, two desks, although one was clearly occupied by clay and such.

But laying on one of the beds, was a human skeleton.

I screamed, only to have it sit up and look at me.

"Hello."