It starts off with a call. A familiar voice speaks into his ear. But this is something that shouldn’t be. He must be hallucinating. He shrugs it off. His introversion kicks in. Spending the day just staring at his ceiling wishing for someone to hold him. He turns and holds the pillow. He cries. He wonders why he wakes up feeling so bad about his life. Regretting all the decisions he’s made. He wants to feel better. But it grows weary. He begins to slip outside with the day his friends drag him away. They don’t catch him. They never do. He doesn’t allow it. Just cunning and smart enough to not give signs to them about how much he wants to die. Too much of a burden on their lives. They worry about me too much. The day ends with him strung along to a bar. So many people. He’s feeling out of breath. So many people. He drowns out the loud music and people talking with his soft songs that remind him he should keep his glass mask on. He falsifies a yawn to cover his tears in weariness. They think he’s happy. He’s doing a good job. As long as they don’t worry any more about me. It’s a chance to start distancing himself from all of them. They don’t need to be put in any more misery. They have their own problems.
The weekend passes with no problems. No unique problems. The same things happen. Class. Trying to find self-worth. Trying to find something that would make him smile. It doesn’t work. It never works. He attempts it again. He wakes up. He fails. Have to cover the chasms again. Ritualistic. He feels like he’s dying in normalcy. He can’t stop feeling miserable. He wants it to go away. He loses interest in women. He loses interest in humanity. He has to pretend to enjoy life so no one worries. He thinks he can end it soon. It’s nothing to worry about. Life would be better for everyone. He thinks this over and over. He can’t think. The migraine hit harder than usual today. His temple beats like a drum being beat by an amateur artist wanting to be loud. They begin sounding like gunshots. He receives an idea.
Another week. Suffering continues. He thinks he can manage it. He looks around his lab for any think that would work. Fails. He has enough money now. He looks around the store. He goes up to the counter. He purchases a sturdy tool. He leaves his house. Everything hurts. He had to walk ten miles back home. But he looks at his tool. A smile gleams across his face. He leaves.
A roar.
