A sad day in the life of a sad person.

There once was a young man named ritos. Ritos lived in Kimberly, Alabama, and hated it- it wan't home. Home was Charlotte, North Carolina, the place he'd spent the first few years of his life in but doesn't remember much of. After moving from Carolina, to Florida, to Morris, Alabama then finally to Kimberly. It'd been a long ride. Changing schools, being constantly harassed in school by teachers and students alike, ritos hated his existance. It took 17 years to finally be diagnosed with depression, after years of anxiety, being micromanaged, and not being allowed to grow up like everyone else he knew. One April afternoon Ritos sat and stared blankly as he always did, no movements or sound. Everyone else was having a good time on Teamspeak, which he was on- except for him. Ritos had only recently started to genuinely hate life, and so instead of staring blankly at a wall he stared at his knife. After staring at it for about 15 minutes, he finally picked it up and opened it. Ritos twirled it around in his hand, looking closely at it seeing if it needed to be cleaned. The thought was creeping from the back of his head. "No", he said out loud as if there was someone around listening. "I'm not strong enough to physically hurt myself". He knew if he'd ever do it he'd not give himself pain, he'd have to do it another way.