Death By Jon.

I killed myself. My suicide wasn't done in the traditional sense though, not by a razor blade and the slow, fluid movement of cold metal sliding through my skin. It wasn't completed by a rope hanging from the ceiling, with a noose around my neck. My murder wasn't from an object or pills I forced down my throat; it was done by a disease. It was slow at first, eating away at my thoughts and my words. Then, it was fast, tearing through my heart and my emotions. A disease that started with a smile.