Mikey's blog: "The art of suicide"

Oh how bitter the air got. Bitter, but not being able to see my breath. Tears trickling down my face like blood at the back of my throat. The heartaches..the pain. It will now all be over. Sooner or later. Hearing knocks at my door, I give no response. The worried sound of my people. Calling my name, shouting. Still I give no response. All I can do is cry. I beg of no mercy. I beg of no help. My life is slipping out of my hands centimeter by centimeter, inch by inch. It was only then I felt rejected by heaven, but welcome by hell. The darkness coming over me. The shallow inhales. I knew that only then that I'm about pass. More banging, and screaming. The door breaks open. Screaming and crying were the last things that I heard. I felt her arms caress me one last time before I slipped away. My soul now gone, but my spirit lives on. She took the note from my hand. The words "I love you" written in my very own blood. She knew this was the end. I knew this was the end. They knew this was the end. My friend this is the end. The end of my existence. The end of my life.