Finally, I
have let it all out. Did I just write my suicide letter? I've never seen one
before, so I have no idea what such a thing contains. If no one cares, why would
one even need to exist? Sigh. Such a confusing world.

I drop my pen,
making sure not to damage it. Because of this pen, this magnificent device, it
has kept me here. Here. With my beloved Germany. At least, it has, if it will in
the future I have not a clue.

Clue. A game. Life is also a game, never
ending. Can't I just stop for a minute to breathe?

I think too much.
Just another quality to add onto the list of reasons I hate myself. Some would
say hate is such a strong word, but I find it much too weak. Weak and fragile,
like my mind.

Next I open my drawer. Most people would put a lock on
this, for a reason such as not wanting anyone else to read it. I don't. Why
would anyone care to read even a single piece of my writing? Gently, I place my
journal in there and slam the drawer shut. My hand hurts from doing so, but I
don't give a damn. I don't have one to give, except to Germany.

Pain,
physical, is just something created to ignite fear. I do not let fear be ignited
by this, but calmed. My skin doesn't even get a chance to heal, I reopen wounds
too often to count.

Somehow, no one has seen these. Not that anyone
cares to look. I guess because unlike most people, cutters anyways, I avoid the
wrists. For some reason, I am too afraid to do so. I have decided that only if I
decide to end it all, I will cut my wrists. But that doesn't mean I have not
considered it before.

All of my thoughts, eventually will be put to rest.
One way or another, but when? How? Where? Where doesn't even mean anything to
me, as long as everything ends.

By everything, I mean everything. Except
my love for Germany, which shall never die. Even though I have lost my mind, my
soul, and spirit, I still have a fragment of my heart. This, which shall forever
belong to and exists because of him, my beloved Germany.

So immersed in
my thoughts, I didn't realize the pain in my hand had ended. Temporarily calming
my senses, but I know this will not last very long. Might as well enjoy it while
it lasts.

I should've caused myself more pain, but didn't. Some blood
would've been nice, even relaxing. Not just a drop or two. I deserve every
second of pain I endure, plus more.

I do not cry. I cannot, because I am
emotionally dead inside. My days consist of two emotions, dead and sad to the
point of tears. I prefer the second one, it makes me feel more normal. It's nice
to feel something, an emotion of some kind, no matter what it is. I will do
anything to achieve this, even if it includes mentally abusing myself.

I
need to stop thinking. I dont deserve to be thinking. I don't deserve to be
here. I don't deserve even a breathe of air, I shall be awaiting my last and
final one.

I have been sitting and thinking, just doing that, for quite
some time now. Time to take action. Time to quench my thirst.

I walk
over to my bed. Next to it, a nightstand. My brother gave this to me for my
birthday. I don't know how he can even remember mine. The only reason he even
acknowledges my existence is because he is my brother, he would look bad not
to.

No one sees who he really is, behind closed doors. No one knows. No.
One. Except for me, but there are even things that I do not know.

I am
brought back into reality. I stare at the drawer. Key, I need a key. The only
reason I even bother to lock this is so no one can get ahold of them. These can
be valuable to anyone that gets ahold of them.

Shit. I just remembered.
Romano has it. He found my hiding place for it, not that I had hidden it very
well, and taken ownership of it. He said something about trying to figure out
who it belonged to, since I had denied ownership. Him being my brother, he had
no choice but to believe what I had said. I doubt he truly did though, or he is
more of an idiot than I thought.

Great, what to do now?

I have an
idea. I get up, pushing myself up off of the bed. My arms hurt, still sore from
the night before. I had really done a number on them, each worse than the night
before. Coming closer to death I was, but an accidental or purpose
one?

On my feel, I feel a little disoriented. My head hurts, but I do not
know why. A little, it hurts at first, but the pain strengthens. More and more,
until it is unbearable.

Unbearable, even for me. How is this
possible?

I do not understand what is going on or what is happening, but
I am not allowed to. My head hurts too much for me to even think of what I truly
want to accomplish.

Sleep. Sleep. This is all I can think of. Normally I
am afraid of sleep, the nightmares are unbearable. For some reason, sleep is now
a welcoming thought. All I want is for it to go away, to fight it. This I do not
understand.

I am done. I feel my eyes closing now, becoming heavier and
heavier. Finally, I feel like I will be having a nice dream.

The pain, a
couple hours should get rid of it right? Cannot take anymore than that. Why am I
still awake when I could dream of Germany?

I surrender. Soon my mind is
filled with visions, but sadly what I had not been hoping for.