Oven Flame

-7-

A/N: This chapter contains a suicide attempt and a graphic description of an accident. Please don't read it if you can't handle things like this.

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The sky was clear. It was dark, but not pitch black. After all, there were stars and the moon, and well, simple street lights illuminating his way. He wasn't sure where he was, but he also didn't really care. He was just walking further away, running away from everything.

Looking at the night sky, he noticed how, to his dismay, it wasn't even full moon. Not even the last day he'd spend in this world could go his way. Surely, he brought this upon himself, after all, he could've ran away on a full moon day, but he couldn't stand being around his father and sister any longer. Not after he heard father talking about him, explaining how disappointed he was in his youngest son. Not after his sister was praised for her good work once again.

So he ran away. He didn't tell anyone, he just ran further and further, not checking what direction, just running.

He couldn't recognize where he was after he had to stop to catch his breath. And he kept walking even further after he was breathing normally again, not looking back the way he came.

When he started running, it was late evening. Now it was late in the night. Shortly, he wondered if his disappearance has been noticed, if they were already looking for him, or if they just...didn't care, didn't notice, didn't look at all.

Dismissing the thought quickly, his eyes scanned the area. He was at the shore of a river. It stretched for about 45 meters and looked deep black, the water making loud noises that sounded like whispering to him.

"Someone tell me where to go..."

"Looking for a way out..."

"Dreams of joy and happiness..."

"This is not where I belong..."

It sent shivers down his back. He never saw himself as a spiritual person, nor did he believe in ghosts or spirits, but he didn't doubt that those were the voices of the previously deceased, the ones with a similar plan as him.

He felt drawn to them.

So he set a foot in the water. It was ice cold, like he expected. He honestly didn't plan to drown, not in a big river like this, he wanted to die in a way his body could be found after his death. So his family didn't have to trouble themselves with searching for him if he was already dead. If they searched, that is.

The voices took him in, the water slowly embracing him. The rational part of his brain screamed that the voices he heard where only in his mind, that it projected his thoughts on stupid river noises, that he went wrong to go like this.

But once you go this far, you can't go back.

He feared not being able to try to die again after this, that he'll never have courage to go as far as he was now ever again. So he went further forward.

The water reached up to his waist now, him carefully lifting his hands, so it wouldn't touch the ice cold water, completely forgetting that his legs and feet already completely disappeared in the black cold. He rembered that he hated the feeling of wet socks after stepping into puddles, but he too felt light-headed and dizzy to relate it to this situation.

One step further and he barely was able to feel the lower half of his body. The only feeling he got was a weird numbness, but because he wanted to die anyway, he didn't pay it to much mind. His legs still moved and that was the only thing that mattered.

He was shaking, his breath unstable and ragged. He gave up on lifting his hands, making them splash some water when they came in contact with it. He was shivering, but he wasn't crying, just looking at the water with downcast eyes. A wisp of wind ruffled his hair and still dry clothes, but he didn't look up. He just walked further.