A/N: I shouldn't be doing this. I only have five chapters written at this point, and I was going to spread out when I posted so you all don't have to wait.

Screw it. Here you go!

EPOV

I'm sick of living.

Everyone has something to live for. Maybe it's a family, perhaps a lover. Maybe it's an aspiration that's so impossible that you either achieve it or die trying. Both are honorable, because either option makes you a fighter.

But the fight has been drained out of me. All I do is anger the people I love, and I've driven them to a point where they don't love me anymore. All I do is cause pain.

And as for goals?

Those have been stripped from me as well. I had a life, a good one. I had everything I ever wanted. But it ended because I wanted to be an honest man. And that will forever be my greatest fault.

I could try to get my life back, but it would be like trying to claw myself out of a hell that knows no mercy. After countless attempts, I've decided to let my strength go and let the flames engulf me.

I could turn myself in, but I refuse to confess to a crime that I did not commit. At least this way, I can die honorably, with the smallest bit of honor I have left.

There are many ways I could have done this: overdosing on pills, throwing myself off a building, but for some reason, standing on the road and waiting for a car to end my life seems like the best way to go. At least, then, someone will remember me.

Even if they do remember me as the idiot that ran in front of my damn car.

I'm delusional. I know I am. My head hurts. I think too much. I'm so nervous. I...can't breathe.

Doesn't matter, in a few seconds, you won't have to anymore.

"Shut up," I grumbled to myself.

What should my last words be? Will I even have time to say anything?

Maybe I should say something now.

"Um...I love you, Mom?" I tried, then realizing that I went for the biggest cliché in the book.

Dear God. At that moment, I knew my tombstone would read:

Here lies Edward Masen. He didn't know how to live, and the idiot certainly know how to die properly.

And why do my last words even matter if no one is around to hear them?

All of this was too damn complicated.

Well, geez Masen, maybe you should have checked out "Dying for Dummies" from the library beforehand.

I stopped for a second, wondering how I could feel so blasé about this. I think I had just gotten comfortable with the idea, or maybe...

Maybe it just didn't feel real to me.

I knew why I want to do it. I just feel...empty. Like there's nothing holding me to this world. I've exhausted all of my options, and there is still one that is ready for me to grab onto, but I would never touch it. And perhaps it is my stubbornness that leaves me with nothing.

So I guess I better just get this over with.

I see a car coming down the street, a little too fast. In another life, that would have bothered me. I close my eyes and take a few steps to the right, until I am shielded by the trees. As I hear it approaching, I breathe a little harder. I sweat a little more.

This is it.

I take off into a run. I stop a mere fifteen feet in front of the car.

The driver looks directly at me and lets out a blood curdling scream.

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