Fernando tipped his face towards the stream of hot water gushing from the shower head.
The last week hadn't been good for him, having retired from three races and finishing second to last, just ahead of Brendon, who had a penalty for exiting the track and gaining an advantage at the last race.
The Spaniard turned off the water and grabbed a towel from the radiator, wrapping it around his waist. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and stopped, hair in midair as he reached for the door handle.
He had lost a lot of weight, not having much of an appetite recently and often burning off anything he did consume through a rigorous training programme.
It didn't make much difference, the car still had issues and he rarely finished in the top 10, most of his races ending early due to mechanical issues.
Fernando glared at his reflection, hating every part of himself. The scars, the patches of skin leftover from the burns he suffered, even the tattoo on his back he claimed gave him strength.
He hated all of it.
Fernando quickly left the room, drying himself. He grabbed a t-shirt and jeans, pulling them on and lay on the hotel bed.
Tears ran down his face and he pulled a hand down past his eyes, softly sobbing into his palm.
He used to be great, one of the best drivers Formula One had ever seen.
What was he now?
Am like an old dog. Everyone just feels sorry for it so they humour it but the best thing to do would be to put it out of its misery and save everyone else the trouble. He thought bitterly. No one needs me anymore, Would be easier for everyone if I am not here.
The Spaniard pushed himself up off the bed and went back into the bathroom. He searched for something, anything, to end this shithole he called a life.
He pulled out a bottle of drain cleaner from under the sink, turning the bottle over in his hands a few times before yanking the lid off and throwing it somewhere behind him.
Fernando brought the bottle to his lips and tipped his head back, allowing the blue liquid to stream down his throat and pool in his stomach.
He coughed and dropped the bottle, spilling the rest of the drain cleaner on the floor. He gripped his throat, lips tinged blue, a small streak of cobalt escaping from his mouth and dribbling down the side of his chin.
Fernando dropped to the floor, collapsing in the growing puddle of drain cleaner.
He let out a final cough, the air leaving his lungs and head lolling to the side.
Fernando Alonso was dead.
Name: Fernando Alonso Díaz
Time of death: 19:42
Type of death: Ingestion of an alkaline substance with pH 14 (liquid drain cleaner)
YOU ARE READING
My Suicide Note
Fanfic(Set after "I am Damaged") After several events, the world comes crumbling down for some Formula 1 drivers. Please note, the story deals with suicide and self-harm. Do not read if you suffer from these as these are TRIGGER WARNINGS.
