TRIGGER WARNINGS: suicidal thoughts, (failed) suicide attempt, overdose, fear of death, depression, self-blame, and mentioned animal death, hospitalization and self-harm (cutting).

He was a teenager when he started thinking about death.

As in… an option.

A way out.

Lars was depressed, for the lack of a better word. He was either numb or angry, no in-between. He skipped class sometimes. His grades, which were never really remarkable, were humiliating. And when he came home, he wouldn't even look at his parents. He knew they were going to talk about how disappointed they were. Thus, Lars spent the entire day sulking in his room. He wouldn't even eat with Mom and Dad, instead he waited for them to go to bed, so he could make something quick.

He couldn't even bake. Baking, the one thing that always made him feel good… it was pointless.

He couldn't play videogames or read comics or watch Camp Pining Hearts and write dumb stories, because it was all so… dull.

And most importantly, Lars didn't deserve good things.

He didn't deserve to be happy.

So, Lars considered it.

He sneaked in and grabbed his father's sleeping pills, getting quite a handful of them.

Lars did get informed what might happen to him. It sounded painful.

But Lars deserved it.

Nobody at school liked him, children, teens, and adults alike. He was a coward. He drove Ronaldo away. He was a failure, a disappointment to his parents. On top of it all, Han Solo, his precious cat, was dead because of him.

So, Lars did it.

…

And failed.

He was lying in bed, but when the symptoms kicked in, he panicked.

Lars tried to stand up, only to trip and knock his bedside table over. It did make a lot of noise.

He wasn't even sure if his parents were home at all. He never bothered to check.

Lars was a coward.

A big weeping loser.

So, he yelled.

"Mom! DAD!"

He couldn't scream any louder, he was half conscious by then. He was so scared.

Lars would die alone.

He cried like a little kid.

"Please… a-anyone…"

The teen really couldn't detect anything else, his senses were slowly dying out.

It was certainly a surprise when he felt himself in someone's arms. They were thicker, so that wasn't Mom. It must've been Dad.

He was asking so many questions. Lars couldn't answer any of them.

All he did…

"D-D… Dad…"

He reached out a shaky hand, which was caught by a bigger and warmer one.

"I… I-I don't wanna go…" Lars sobbed. "I don't wanna go, Dad… please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna go…"

He couldn't register what his father was telling him, though the last thing he remembered was being carried somewhere else, in a hurry.

The hospital was kind of a long ride, so it was a miracle that Lars survived.

Besides this, they also found out another secret.

Lars would wear long sleeves even in the heat when he was at school, or when his parents were around.

But at the hospital, wearing only a flimsy gown, they could see the multiple red marks on his arms.

His mom cried so much.

Dad wasn't even able to support her, because he would cry alone.

Lars felt so conflicted.

He should've died.

But he didn't want to.