The future seemed only to be a hinderance, everything he had put forth remained a shred of that which he had once drempt. The idea, had of course, entered his mind before. He refused it, disputed it, rationalized it. He accepted it now. Sleep was a rarity, not because he didn't want to, because he couldn't. The feelings impounded him, grounding him to squabble upon his own self pity.

Guilt - He understood the reason for his failure was due to his own actions.

Anger - He hated himself for the situation he had put himself into, and with that, began to hate others.

Indecisiveness - Could he put himself forth to continue on? Pick up again, and fight his way back?

He was finished blaming others for his faults. He thought he had understood the truth, it rained down on him like a hail of stones.

Time passed.

He entered a state of delusion.

The hammer of the gun slammed against its rear, a deafening noise struck out throughout the fresh morning air. The young man stood, grinning lifelessy, a link of smoke deserted the barrel of the gun emancipating itself into the drearily blue sky. The thousands turned, in shock, revering the young man standing atop the roof with the gun raised above his head. One may have expected chaos, a distinct fear upon the people, this was not the case. They stood, intriuged by the young man.

"Life is but a dream..." the young man scoured the crowd with his teary eyes, "... a dream I have failed to realize."

He leveled the gun to his head. Click. Bang. Screams aroused from the crowd, mothers shielding their child's eyes, elderly men turning away in disgust. Mutters broke out among the people, 'What a fool' 'It is better off he is now dead'.

One man stood among them, his eyes never having had left the young man, even as his body lay lifeless on the pavement of the rooftop.

"Pity... Pity he never realized the truth. Enveloped in his own illusions of despair and distrust..." the man stood there, gathering his thoughts of the incident.

"A lost soul."