I am dead. Not on the outside, no. I stare into the filthy, stained mirror in my bathroom. Black hair, watery eyes, stubble on the chin. And that big freaking Z necklace around my neck. My shades are on my forehead, my hand's full of rings. No, I'm alive on the outside. But I'm also disgusting and uncool.

The word uncool rings in my head. Uncool, Uncool, Zeke's such a loser. He thinks he's soooo cool. "DAMMIT!" I scream, punching the mirror to try to get the chant out of my head. It shatters immediately, and I feel a stinging sensation which means shards of glass have slipped under my skin.

I curse, a word that I don't really know but heard other people say. It hurts. I bring up my bloodied hand to rip off the Z necklace, to snap the shades. All I wanted was to fit in! All I wanted was for, just once, for ME to be the cool one, for ME to be accepted!

In a shard of shattered mirror, I can see my reflection. Snot hanging down my nose, my eyes watering and crying. Disgusting. I hate myself. I really do. And then the image changes. I see the cast of Total Drama Island. I see them looking at me in disgust. Bridgette edging away from me, Courtney hitting me on the head with a lamppost. Eva strangling me. All I wanted to do was make friends!

I am such a loser. I will never fit in, ever. No matter what I do, I can't do it right. Picking up a shard of mirror, I stab it in my open palm without a second's thought. I immediately yell with pain, but also of relief. It feels good. The pain is leeching out the depression.

They hated me, they all hated me. Every single one of them. Another stab in the palm. And when I thought I knew how to be cool, how to be one of them…. They still hated me. Another stab.

I grit my teeth, pounding my leg against the floor. My parents are gone, to the nearest town. Good, I don't want to see their faces. They didn't even WANT to watch me on T.V., they thought it was a sin for me to try to interact with all those "Unholy people". And they were right. But they still hate me for disobeying, still hate me for going to the doctor about my Vitamin Deficiency.

Another stab, more pain. I look at my palm, and I'm surprised to see the gaping, bloody hole. Did I do that? And now I feel woozy. The pain hits me like a train, my palm seems to be drawing in on itself, seems to be thriving off of the stings of fire that are leaping from my palm to my arm.

I want to be cool, I want to be liked! Instead of stabbing, I make a quick slash across my wrist. This brings more stings of pain in which I grit my teeth and wail inside, but I know I deserve it. I'm a loser, I'm not cool, I'm not anything.

I look at my other hand, which is whole and unmarked. I hate it. Yelling, gritting my teeth in anticipation, I bring the knife down swiftly over my wrist. And then….. A dreadful second of numbness. Then my whole body shakes. Fire is running down my left arm into my body. I yell, and I feel the hot salty tears falling down my face. Black spots are appearing in my vision, but I don't care. It hurts so badly. It's not a relief anymore. I look at my left wrist and scream, half my vision is obstructed. My wrist is an open maw of bone and red blood. Half of my wrist is hanging off.

Pain is building everywhere. My head, my arms, my legs. It feels like it's pulsating behind my eyes. Fire and sharp twinges. I catch sight of myself in a shard of mirror. My Torque's off, my Necklace besides me, my shades out in the distance. I'm not cool. Nobody wants me. I'm covered in my own blood for Christ's sakes. Most of my vision is still obstructed. Slowly, the edges all start to go back.

A jolt of fear runs through my body, and then it's gone. I'm ready to leave, to exit. I'm done trying to be "The Zeke". I'm done being a freaky prairie boy. I want to be someone else, I want to be gone.

And now everything's going black. The only thing I see is the shard of mirror. In it I see everything. Myself, my family, Bridgette, Courtney, Eva….. Chris, Owen, Izzy…. Everything's going black now…..

I'm floating away; I still see the shard of mirror showing the faces. Their cheering me on, chanting my name. Chris is giving me the check, I have my necklace, everybody's saying I'm cool, great, awesome…. Tears are running down my face….

I'm floating, flying, crying. And I'm gone.

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