Daisuke was slumping in a chair, not sure whether he was high or not. Whether he was or not, he didn't care. Whatever he did, there wasn't any feeling in it anymore. He was slowly slipping into the darkness, and he knew it. But it just didn't matter to him any more. His friends tried to help him. But what could they do? They didn't know his pain, his anger, his bitterness…they had no idea how he felt…
Or did they?
He had no idea.
He hoped not. He'd never want to see them in any kind of pain.
But he stopped to wonder if they would feel the same way.
Yes, they would.
He slowly propped himself up on one hand. He turned to stare at the knife that was clenched tightly in his fist. He thought about what he was about to do. He knew that a few years ago he wouldn't have ever thought of such a thing. Back then, though he knew he was being rejected by the girl he loved, he continued to try, though it pained him to seem them together. He had refused to give in. But now, he had just given up. This realization had caused a horrible depression to sweep over his mind.
He didn't deserve this.
Oh, god, why?
So much for falling in love, it must only be in fairy tales where it ends up happily.
There's no point in continuing to suffer.
He slowly raised the knife, and directed it towards his wrist.
It wasn't until morning that his parents found his lifeless form.