He sits in his bedroom with a pistol of his dad’s in his hands. Deciding
if he should really go through with it. He believes there isn’t much left to
live for in this life. He was dragged to a different state where he knew no
one. Except one group who everyone called the freaks, but he was happy with
them he could actually talk to them and not be judge for who he is. They
labeled him a “ Loser “ and a “Freak” too , since he didn’t fit in their
kind of group, so what if he always wore black maybe that is what he liked,
and the loud music he enjoyed where he could just get lost in ,and forget
about that moment. Behind his back they would talk about his family and him.
His father had high goals for him he just couldn't live up to, so he
was a disappointment to him. He thought of his mother who was always so
worried about him. He hated to see that tired worried look on her face as he
came in at 3 in the morning from hanging out with his new friends he hung
out with. They never got in to trouble as everyone thought all they would do
is sit around some place talking and having laughs but never did anyone get
to know them ,and see the real side not just the outside of them. It just
hurt him to see that look on her face ,and his little 10 year-old sister who
adored him and who started to act like him as well. He just always wished he
could be a better person for his family, but he knew it was just not
possible. He knew this was his only way out instead of hurting his family
all the time. Especially his little sister. He placed the gun into his
mouth. It was already cocked. Now all he had to do is pull the trigger and
all worries would be gone. He took one last look at the family photo laying
on his night stand by his bed. Oh how he missed those days. With that the
bedroom door slammed up with a chain reaction the pistol went off, and he
looked up, and saw his 10-year old little sister staring in shocked as her
big brother fell to the floor lifelessly.
 
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