I'm just putting this out there, that I, Ryan, am not suicidal or majorly depressed. My Pokemon form however is. If ANYONE, and I mean anyone, who is reading this story has depression or suicidal thoughts, talk to someone. Enjoy the chapter.

And blazingalex here. Calm down, Ryan. On a more serious note, I just read a review that got kinda deep. There is always hope to those who self harm (looking at you, dusk5261). Talk to someone if you have suicidal thoughts. Preferably Ryan/xGlaceon since, y'know, that's his focal point. I just like the killing.

And now...Chapter 2! WE DO NOT OWN POKEMON! JUST THE OC'S!

Chapter 2: Leave Me Be

I opened my eyes slowly, but regretted it, squinting my eyes at the excruciating light gleaming into them. Machines beeped next to me. Wires and tubes stuck out of my arm. I was alive. A pang of depression hit me. I was alive. The three words kept repeating in my head. I was alive.

"No," I moaned. "No!" I ripped the wires out of my arm, depriving me of the medications that kept me alive. "I want out!" I was about to hop out of my hospital bed, but a nurse suddenly came bursting into my room.

"Hey!" She yelled. "What're you doing? That's keeping you alive!"

"I don't wanna live! I wanna die!" I started to thrash around in my bed as the nurse grabbed my arms.

"Someone get a sedative!" I began kicking and waving my arms. She had a hell of a hold. Another nurse, a male one, rushed in with a syringe and began fighting my feet. A third nurse ran in and grabbed my legs, holding them still while the male nurse injected something into me. I stopped struggling. My body relaxed. I was sedated. I was growing drowsy quickly, watching the nurses turn into globs of random shapes, their talking slightly muffled by the sedative.

"Don't...wanna...live…" I was let go. I tried to make a last effort to move, but it was impossible. I had lost the fight. The wires were put back into my arms. The room grew dark as my vision finally gave out, but not my hearing.

"What're we gonna do with him?" One of the nurses asked with an echo.

'Nothing. Let me die in peace.' I laughed in my own head.

"I know a Luxray at a mental hospital," another responded. "We can send him there." I fell back onto my pillow and closed my eyes, a forced sleep washing over me.

I woke up some time later from my unexpected nap. A man in a white coat stood over me. His balding head shined in the light.

"Good news, Ryan," he said to me. "You're getting out today." A faint smile formed on my face.

'Finally,' I thought to myself. 'I can finish the job.'

"I'm sending you to St. Mew's Hospital for a psychiatrical evaluation."

My smile was suddenly wiped off of my face. 'St. Mew's? That mental hospital?! No!' "No!" I shouted. "I-I'm not going there! I don't want to go to any hospitals!"

"Ryan, you have severe depression." He sat down on my bed. "You're suicidal. This'll do you some good. Hell, maybe you'll find a friend there."

"I don't have friends. I don't have family. I don't have anyone. I don't want anyone." I put my head down and turned away from him.

"You'll find someone. Here." I felt something get placed onto me. "Read this. It's a great book." I picked it up and looked at the cover.

"Already read this," I responded.

"Which version?" I turned back to him.

"What?"

"There were three versions released. Which version did you read? What ending?"

"Uh...where the baby was dead and they killed themselves."

"Tch. Read this ending. There is hope." He got up and left, leaving the book on my bed. I looked at the cover again.

"'Number one best-seller,'" I read. I opened it and flipped to the back of the book. 'There were more chapters? This has to be some kind of mistake.' I turned back into the book. "'Chapter 33…'" I read. "'A New Beginning.'"

As I read, I became more absorbed into the story. Young CJ being forced out of his home. Relatable. His parents fighting for their son. Parents. I became teary-eyed at the word. Parents. The reason I wanted out. I wasn't loved. This doctor doesn't want to help me. He's making me go deeper into my depression. Why?

He doesn't care. He's sending me to St. Mew's like Hitler sent the Bug types to death camps.

I pulled out the wires again and began searching the room for something sharp. I yanked open drawers and ripped of cabinet doors. I finally found a scalpel hiding under the sink. I raised both the scalpel and my wrist over my bed. 'Fuck you!' I screamed internally. Penetration. Dragging the surgical tool across my arm, I felt a rush course through my open veins. 'Yes! Die, Ryan! Die!' I laughed psychotically. Blood spurted out of my wrist and onto the floor. Pain. Death. Sorrow. I walked over to the sink to put the tool back, but slipped on my blood and hit my head on the floor, my vision becoming blurred from the sudden impact and blood loss. The scalpel flew off in another direction, but I heard it clang against another metallic object in the room.

A pattering of shoes gradually grew louder from the hall as I lay in a pool of my own blood. I smiled. My room door bursted open.

"We need to get him to St. Mew's now!" Someone ordered. I felt a cloth get wrapped around my wound, trying to stop the bleeding. With my last efforts of strength, I tried to move the cloth, but my hand was knocked away by the blurred Pokemon doing a basic operation on my arm.

'It's too late now,' I said in my head as I closed my eyes, my smile not leaving my face. 'It's way too late now.' But it wasn't too late. I awoke once more.

This is fun… scary fun… I don't know why I like this, I usually hate suicidal stuff, but this has me hooked for some reason. Maybe I truly am crazy!

Ryan, please stop. Remember to review and PM us if you want us to add anything to the story. I also have a poll on my profile related to this story. Go and vote!