A/N: I own the disturbed character in this fic, but not Fight Club. Also, I wrote this for no reason except that it was an idea that I had floating around in my head. For all I know, I am not suicidal.
I am not a beautiful or unique snowflake. I am the same as everybody else. When I die I will decay like any other carbon-based life-form on this planet. I am not special. Those thoughts circled in my head as I slowly drew the sharpened razor blade down my wrist to my elbow. As I watched the blood slowly well up from beneath the skin I thought; When I die, I have a name. When I die, I am special.