Each day seems to be the same. He comes in crying and hoping to die but he’s far too young to die of any natural causes. Plus, I’m pretty sure that it isn’t as bad as he makes it seem. None the less, I am crying right there with him. I look into his eyes and see the pain and misery he feels. We clean ourselves up and go about the rest of our days as if nothing happened.
Today was different though. He crying again and we’re both in tears. He leans over and unzips his book bag. He pulls out a gun, looks directly into my eyes, and puts it into his mouth. I do the same locking eyes to show him how ridiculous he looks. That’s when he pulls the trigger and his brains explode all over the bathroom wall. I know I’m supposed to pull the trigger too but I don’t.