Work Text:
“So, depression is kicking your ass.” The room is dark, illuminated by the light on the desk.
“You don’t know what to do with yourself anymore.” A man leans on the edge of the desk, hands clasped in front of him like a disappointed teacher.
“You can’t kill yourself but you can’t stay here.” He leans more onto the desk as he shrugs.
“You’re scared of what’s happening, aren’t you?” He’s off the desk now, walking towards the center of the room.
“What’s wrong with you? Are you insane?” He stands in the center now.
“No, you’re just done. Right?” He stares off at something. He’s on the laptop screen, staring at the viewer.
“It’s probably late at night. You probably want a way out.” His arms are crossed over his chest. He doesn’t look happy.
“Well, I can’t give that to you. You need to decide for yourself.” He shifts his weight and lifts his arms to shoulder height.
“Kill yourself,” He lifts one hand up, “Or stick around.” He lifts the other and lets the first one drop a little. He’s tilting his hands as though they were a scale now.
“Either way, you’ll be disappointed.” His hands fall to his sides again.
“Disappointed because you didn’t get to watch your life unfold, or disappointed that you didn’t go through with killing yourself.” He seems to be glaring at the viewer.
“So, you have to pick your poison now. I’ll leave it to you.” The screen fades to black.
Now it’s just the viewer, alone in their room. Watching the blank screen. They don’t know what to do. It was supposed to help. Their online support group said it helped. They said that it kept them from killing themselves. It didn’t make any difference for them. So they closed the laptop and picked up the blade. They tucked it back into their drawer and curled up in their bed. They'll decide tomorrow.