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Prepare to enter my mind. In a few moments, you will experience a sensation so vivid and horrendous it could make you sick to the stomach and warp your emotions so badly that you could cry. That is, if you understand me at all.

The repetitive banging on the door was getting on my nerves. I wouldn't say or do anything, not until I had chosen what my plan was. I could drink the bottle of bleach, or save it for another day.

"Seth, please don't do this!" [Alex]

"You have so much to live for!" [Ted]

I have nothing to live for. You people hate me, and yet you refuse to show it. You fear and loathe me because of something I can't change. I'm in here because of you, nothing you say can make me change my mind.

But maybe I could say something. I could, I don't want to, but I could.

No, I need to focus.

I reached for the bottle, and started twisting the cap.

Maybe I'm not ready for this. I don't want to die.

I stopped.

I do have a life ahead of me, and the pentagrams are manageable. I just need a way to hide my snout from the world.

Yeah, 'cause that's gonna happen. What am I supposed to do? Where a leg warmer over it? Right, that totally wouldn't fuck up my speach or make me look like an idiot.

I went back to twisting the cap off. When I finally got it off, the smell of bleach nearly choked me out.

I wonder how much bleach it takes to kill me. Kill... Wait, I'm about to die!

If I do this, I'm dead. Forever. There's nothing after death, what's like to not be conscious? If I do this, it won't be like sleep, it'll be different. It'll be the end of everything. How do my memories work? What would happen to them? Would they just vanish, never to be rediscovered or portrayed, never to be imagined again? Or is there an after life, and I can retap into my memories from heaven.

But there isn't a heaven, or a hell. There's no realm of the afterlife, just the mortal plains of existence. Where people die, and don't come back.

But what's it matter? It's worth it. Because Ted and Alex don't care about my life what so ever.

I wrapped my fingers around the cold, plastic white bottle. Then something hit the door so hard it made me jump, and I splashed a little of the bleach on the counter.

"PLEASE!!! Please don't do this Seth! Please...." Alex sounded as if he were crying, he was screaming through the door, and I no longer heard Ted's voice. "Please! I love you so much! Don't do this! Don't! Just please... Please don't do this...."

You love me? Really?

I felt a clenching in my chest, and felt a little light headed.

He actually cares about me? No, it'ss just a trick to make me come out there. Ted's probably calling the cops, or has completely given up on me.

But Alex hasn't. Why hasn't he gone away yet? It's not like he actually cares about me.

And how can he love me anyways? He doesn't know me at all. He only thinks he does. He may love the person he thinks he knows, but that person isn't me.

I haven't been myself, and don't intend to be. Well, I'll be dead, so-

I heard Alex throw himself at the door again, "Please! Seth, don't do this! I love you! I love you more than anything or anyone! I just.... I love you! Please! Don't do this!"

I heard murmuring in the background, as if someone was talking. It sounded like... Zane? What's he doing? Maybe they forgot to close the door, or maybe Ted went and got them, or maybe they heard Alex screaming or...

Wait, why would they care? I'm just a low life freak who deserves to die. Not for my own sake, but for everyone else's.

I lifted the bottle of bleach, then dropped it when I realized something. The only reason they'd be here is if they're telling the truth.

But they still don't know who I am. They won't ever know who I am. Because I'm going to down this entire bottle of bleach if I have to. And after that, everything will be bett-

The door cracked a little at the huge weight that smashed into it. I heard clawing from the other side, the door handle was jiggling around, and Alex's voice was the only thing I heard to focus on to hear. It was so faint, feeble and weak. He'd been screaming so long that he was losing his voice.

"Please... Seth... I... I love you... I love you so much... I... Please..."

I love you to...

Wait, no I don't! Where the hell did that thought come from?! What the fuck!

Although it does hurt to see him so sad. He needs me...

No he doesn't. He's as horrible as Daniel and Braden and the other jocks and even... Even Tanner. Oh, Tanner. How I'm going to kill that prick headed punk one day.

Wait, no. I'm going to drink the bleach. I can't kill him if I did. Duh...

I lifted the bottle of bleach to my chin and tipped it upward, feeling the cold liquid rush down my throat, burning the tissue as it went. I dropped the bottle, and started coughing, regretting my decision. I probably drank less than a quarter of the bottle but was terrified. I heard screams from the other side of the door, people shouting, but knew I had to push on. I drank half the bottle, then dropped it. My stomach burned, I started seeing spots, and I couldn't think straight. I'm not sure what it was, but everything dimmed and blackened, and I felt my skin crawl.

I made a mistake...

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You know what? You can get mad at Norskie for this sick and twisted idea. I'm not putting this in the actual folder for various reasons like I'm not a total psychopath!! Okay, that's debatable, but still. Cyanide and Happiness is just experimental humor, and I may or may not laugh and dark humor- but that's not the point! I repeat, blame Norskie. You know, as if I wouldn't have done it anyways