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Where am i?

The blonde and blue eyed man injected it into his vein. After a few seconds, the heroine kicked in. He started to go numb, forgetting about the reality, and agony. He laid down on his messy bed and fell asleep.

-a few hours later-

The man woke up, screaming. A nightmare of him committing suicide. The dream to him was a bit.. pleasant. How would it feel to die? Where would you go? he wondered. He was still high, and his heart was pounding.

"May as well take more of this if I'm going to die." He said, quietly. His cracked and pale lips formed into a frown, and he tied a rope around his arm, pulling on it until his vein popped. It popped, and he injected the drug into him, taking a lot. Enough to overdose.

He was doped out, and he wrote a letter, drunk from the vodka he was drinking. After that, he grabbed the shotgun with his left hand, and he started shaking and sobbing. It needed to be over with. Finally, he pulled the trigger and it went through his head, and he was finally gone.

//Fuck sorry the detail thing was supposed to be the first chapter. Oh well, may as well make the last one here.//

The man woke up, still in the same house. Was he dead? or did the suicide fail? He got up, and there was something on the back of his head, bugging him.. He touched the back of his head, and there was a hole through it. He was dead. Where was everyone? Wouldn't they hear the gun? He sat down, and dug in his pocket. There was cigarettes. You could smoke when you're dead? He put the end between his lips, and pulled out a white lighter, lighting it and inhaling the smoke. It was sweet and calm. His lungs were probably cold and black. After that, his wife walked in.

"Fuck!" she yelled out. She didn't seem sad or anything. She looked around the room, ran to the body and dug in the dead bodies pocket, pulling out bills of money. She grinned and walked out, with a laugh.

His eyes filled with tears. She was using him for his money. Thank god he was dead. His wife walked in again, this time with his daughter in her arms, and the wife pointed at the dead body and laughed.

"That's what happens when you do drugs, kid. Oh well, I got money, that's all that matters." she said, and she walked out. He heard the door bang. He quickly got up and tried to go outside, but it's like he was locked in a glass room. He couldn't walk outside. A sigh came out of him, and he walked to the dead body. He poked it and played with the objects in a box beside it, picking up a note and reading it. The suicide note.


The man woke up from a nap.

it was cold and uncomfortable. The room looked the same, and there was no noise in the house.

He had a headache, and he sighed. This is life, for the next life. He pulled a cigarette out, lit it and inhaled. The warm smoke filling his lungs. It instantly got warmer. He heard something and turned around, a man with an electrician suit looked at the body that he used to live in. The electrician looked down at the body, and glanced in the corpse's ear. Blood. He gasped, as if he was choking, and he ran out.

Kurt was confused and scared. Someone discovered the body. It was April 6th and it was cloudy out, the sky looking sad. It made Kurt sad, but Kurt had to stop being sad. He killed himself for a reason, to be unsad. But the truth is, when you're dead, you're gonna be sad forever.

-an hour later-

Kurt sobbed, getting small hairs out of his mouth. His face was red and his eyes were puffy and pink. Regret flows inside his mind. He misses his sister, mom, friends, and he mostly misses his daughter. Kurt scratches at his wrists, seeing blood trickle down them. Why was he suddenly.. calm? he wiped off the blood and looked at the wall with all of his mind on it. Good god, it was terrifying.

"I'm so sorry for the people that have to clean this.." he whispers to himself, touching the blood. As he pokes the wall with his blood on it, his eyes fill with tears.

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