It is clouding over out here. It only started when he walked out into the air. The air turns stale when he revealed himself to the world from the protection of the building. Everybody stays away from him, the saddening one, nobody likes to be sad, but him, he hates everything with a passion. While he is walking home in his sinister clothing, the crow caws at him with its sad but true death tone. When he reached his house, the lawn hasn’t been done in ages, the house has been painted black, and the windows have been tented to a deep crimson that almost looks black. He enters his house, with that long skeleton key. Goes past the foyer, which has been turned into a raver room. Up the creaky stairs, twisting with there threatening bends, and they call to him to push somebody down them. He makes it to the benighted hallway and walks past the rooms that smell of sex and blood in them. He makes it to the black door; of course he opens the door and walks in like he usually does. Blood incases the room; it’s all on the walls. You can see a hand dragging down the wall where the end might have been. Yes, it is his doing; of course it is all his blood really…Aha you think him a murderer? For yes he does hate all life, but mostly his own. He takes off his clothes slowly, leaving nothing but pale, white skin. The scars are all over, he lost count after 38. He retires to the bathroom after he gets his blood red towel from the closet of his. He walks to his sauna that is all black, but then again it matches the bathroom, black marble, everything black, except of course the faucets…they are gold. He turns them on and blood pours out of them into the sauna where he is sitting, it does not faze him at all. He fumbles around the back part of the tub. And pulls out a bottle of champagne. Pops the cork, and takes a swig of it. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. Slams the bottle on the side of the sauna, and slits his wrists with deep gashes. By the sigh in his breath I believe he’s not going to stop the bleeding. His eyes fade to black, pupils glaze over; the world is a figment to his mind now. I swear that was a smile on his face…but that man is incapable of smiling. There is a beeping sound in the distance getting louder…and louder. You sit up in bed sweating with scars all over your body and the pain in your wrist wont go away, the covers you were sleeping on are covered in blood. And when you walk outside the air stales in your breath and the crow seems to be stalking you with its long sad cry. You are no longer accepted at school and this world is scared of you because you are fucking different. Well, maybe you will go home and relax in your sauna and give this world of yours to another.*the end*

By HappinesDeprived

Im feeling death is a come on. and suicide a friend who see's.