This story contains attempted suicide and suicidal thoughts. Read at you own risk.
BPOV:
I wake up, knowing I don't have anything to live for. I cant play guitar, cant hold a microphone. I spent my whole life playing music. I didn't go to college. Instead I went and toured with Panic!! What will I do, how will I get a job. Ryan has been trying to help me figure what I will do with my life. I cant love him, I won't love him. I have nothing to live for. Yes I have family but they probably forgot about me. I havent seen them in such a long time. They probably just pretend Im not their family so they can move on with their life. Its been a couple days since I came home. All I have done is sleep and dreaded being alive. Who will miss me any way? I get enough strength to go to the bathroom, I go in and get a razor. I just want the pain to go away. This is the easy way out. I hold out my arms as best as I can as I use the razor to slit my wrists. This is the way I die. This is best. I will go to a better place. I start saying to myself as I start to fall asleep.
