Short Stories.

Makoto's Suicide

Warning for suicide and drugs.

Makoto seemed like a very happy child. He was bubbly and very welcoming towards everyone. He had his moments of anger and sadness just like everyone else. No one knew how deep it went.

Makoto sat in his dark room with the covers pulled over his head. He was still in highschool, attending a normal highschool. He had been rejected by Hopes Peak.

He held cold hands over his mouth. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he could feel his lip curl as he sobbed. He couldn't take it anymore.

The constant rejection and abuse weighed down on him. Ever since he was younger, he took care of Komaru because their mother was a drug addict. Countless times he's seen his mother passed out on the floor with needles in her arms. He's held his newborn sister and cried in a room for days because their mother wasn't waking up.

Then as Komaru got older, she started to need him less and less. Going as far and pushing him away. His father always told him that he would never be able to do anything right in his life.

Makoto used spite and tried to get into Hopes Peak. When he was rejected his family laughed at him and didn't help him cope with his feelings.

After the abuse from his mother, the emotional abuse from his family. He turned to other ways of coping.

Makoto planned to be the proudest person he could. It never worked. Each day he'd come home and try his hardest to do what he could to feel better, but he just couldn't.

Makoto talked to friends, they never understood.

Makoto talked to counselors, but couldn't say too much without coming off as suicidal or depressed.

Makoto tried to paint, sing, draw, write. But he was never as good as anyone else.

Makoto always thought he was too much of a wimp to actually kill himself. He'd watch videos and read posts online that everything is okay. That people would miss him if he actually left, but each time an insult hits his ears and the fiery feeling of anger and sadness well inside him, he knows that it couldn't be true.

That night, Makoto had been pushed a little too far. Their words had hit a little too hard. He ran up to his room, slamming the door and hiding under his covers immediately.

Tears rolled down his face as he sobbed. Distantly he heard his family complain about his cries being too loud, and how he must be emotional again.

Makoto snapped. He continued to lay in bed and cry until everyone was asleep. He snuck downstairs and went to the bathroom.

The brown haired male knew that if he were to die, he'd die by eating too many pills. It sounded much better than hanging himself or attempting to pull the trigger.

Makoto looked through the pills, still weeping and willing the hot tears off his slick cheeks.

Nothing useful was in the bathroom cabinet.

Makoto knew one other place to look, his father's bag. His father had depression and anxiety and so pills were always prescribed to him. Instead of his dad taking the pills, he just smoked weed instead to calm himself.

Makoto hated that. Makoto hated drugs with every fiber of his being. No one understands that after watching your mom get high, almost die, and then beat you changed the way on how you think about drugs.

Makoto picked up the pill bottles and went back upstairs.

His body wracked with sobs as he left a note. A couple for the people in his family that he knew would care, and one to some old friends he would leave behind.

He turned his phone off, not wanting to see anything that would change his mind. Makoto was done with living.

He unscrewed the bottle and counted out how many pills it would take. After the first couple of pills, he started to eat more. Taking them by two. Then by three. Eventually the bottle was empty.

Makoto laid back in his bed, hands shaking. He covered his face once more and fell asleep, knowing that he'd most likely be dead in the morning.

-~-

Komaru woke up early on Sunday morning. She usually did so she could have the most breakfast.

She looked over and saw Makoto laying in bed still. She rolled her eyes and continued down stairs.

It was around noon when Komaru was told to wake her brother up. She went to his room and walked over. Shaking him. "Mom and Dad said to get up. You didn't do the dishes last night so Dad wants them done." She said.

Surprisingly, there was no response.

"Makoto. Get up." She shook him a little harder.

No response.

"Fine. I'll just tell Dad then." She went down stairs to get their father.

After an hour of yelling upstairs, their father went upstairs.

After shaking Makoto and pulling off the blankets, an empty pill bottle clattered to the floor.

Makoto laid there, pale, and not breathing.

Yesterday morning Makoto has been singing while doing the dishes and complaining to his parents that he wanted to go out and do something, and now he was in his bed, dead.

-~-

Makoto's funeral was much earlier than anyone thought it would be. Of course people showed up.

His few close friends were there and his large family was. No one thought that Makoto was thinking about suicide.

Everyone knew how passionate he was and tried his hardest. They never knew Makoto wanted to die.

Makoto's last thoughts had been about his family and what he would miss. He would never see Komaru graduate, or be an uncle.

His family thought of everything they were going to miss.

Makoto would never come downstairs late at night to grab a water bottle and wake everyone up. Makoto would never sing Christmas songs way too early. Makoto would never wake Komaru up for school again. His family would never see Makoto graduate from highschool, or go to college, other get married.

Makoto was gone, because the world was too cruel, for someone who sought for kindness.