Chapter Text
He was tired. He was so so tired.
Everyday the same cycle. Try, fail. He tried making friends with those kids. He even ignored them since adults said to be the “bigger person”. But even when it seemed like he won, he always turned back on him and told him to not murder them.
Why was this so hard? Why was life so hard?
Dokja opened his drawer. The threads were stable. Possibly the only stable thing in his life. He looked up to see his reflection in the screen. Did he always look like that? His eyebags looked heavy enough to lift dumbbells and his hair greasy enough to fry an omelette on.
He laughed in self-pity. Oh well, not like it’ll matter.
He once again looked up at the screen but instead saw his favorite webnovel site. Maybe, just one last try. He clicked onto the search engine. “How to survive”
Enter.
….
NO RESULTS
……
Why did he even try at this point?
He grabbed the rope from his drawer and dragged his chair under the ceiling fan. He stood on the chair and secured the rope. Time for the end that mattered.
Figure 8, loop, wrap, wrap, wrap, wrap, wrap, wrap, pass, lower, pull. Just like he practiced.
So this was…it? He thought there’d be more…suspence.
But he wasn’t going to back out. He was called a wuss too many times before.
He stood still for a moment to look at his room one final time. And kicked away the chair.
Air. Air was being choked out. He tried to hold himself up due to instinct, but eventually flopped back down. He was never very strong anyways.
Instead of light, he saw flickerings of darkness. They felt cold but peaceful.
In dark, he allowed himself to admit. He wanted to live. But not like this.