As the fifth “beep” from the digital alarm clock sounds, Wyn rolls over to turn it off and checks his phone. There are no unread messages. His desire to be taken out by an accident is still there, and even stronger. Despite wanting to stay home, he forces himself out of bed and drags himself through another mundane day at the office. He sits next to Budd, but Budd is so busy that they barely speak. Wyn makes some progress on his work, but it's minimal.

Days continue to pass, and Wyn’s mental state remains unchanged. Deciding to call in sick on Friday, Wyn avoids meeting his team. He had planned this since Monday. Arranging it through a private chat with his boss, she sounds more frustrated about Wyn missing the dinner than about rescheduling the project finalization. Wyn doesn’t care anymore at this point. Since it's a work-from-home day, Wyn has no intention to tell Budd or anyone else about his absence. Suddenly, a message pops on Wyn's phone.

"I'm leaving the company next month."

"Awesome. Congrats. Don’t forget to buy me a meal, rich daddy."

"Hahaha. Thanks! And sure! Will choose when and where later."

Wyn sets his phone aside. The brief exchange leaves him feeling numb. As he lies in bed, the thought of consulting a psychiatrist crosses his mind. However, from his experience, no matter how many psychiatrists or psychologists he sees, or how honest he is, he always falls back into the cycle. It feels like a losing battle. Wyn decides to let it be.

“If I go out, I’ll go out with a bang,” he thinks to himself, all the while getting a chuckle out of it.

This territory is familiar to Wyn. He’s contemplated this many times since university but has never acted on it. Several reasons hold him back: the fear of pain before the end, the grief it would cause his parents, the thought of all his achievements and experiences going to waste, and that elusive glimmer of hope that someday he might be successful, despite his doubts.

Fast forward to the following Friday – Wyn’s thirtieth birthday. Since he avoids social media and hasn’t mentioned his birthday to anyone, including Budd, it’s just another quiet day. The only birthday wishes come from his parents. Today feels different, though; he feels older but hasn’t achieved anything meaningful. He barely has time to dwell on it as he prepares for an online presentation to the marketing team. He spends the morning and noon perfecting his pitch. He’s confident in presentations and usually receives praise, including his boss. This usually would have been uplifting if he were in a normal mental state. This week had been tough on him, with him trying to squeeze out what little he had left in him to get the work done.

There's another assignment waiting, but he can’t muster the energy to start. He lets his monitor go to screensaver mode and lies down on his bed.

“The thirties club, huh? I get older but nothing changes,” he says aloud, tears in his eyes.

As days pass into March, Wyn continues to struggle. Normally, he recovers within two weeks, but this time, it's been almost a month. With less than a week before Budd leaves the company, the department executive throws a farewell party with pizzas and fried chicken. It’s a cheerful event, with Budd getting emotional during his farewell speech. Wyn grabs some of the free food and eats at his desk in solidarity. Budd has been checking in on Wyn via texts and in person, but Wyn insists nothing is wrong. Budd has done all he can, but today, he’s focused on his farewell.

When Budd’s last day arrives, he’s using his remaining days of annual leave to rest before starting his new job. The two haven’t had their private farewell dinner yet. Budd was busy until the end, finishing and handing off his work. Wyn, on the other hand, has been in no mood to socialize.

“I’ll take a raincheck,” Budd texts on his last day.

“Sure thing, my man. I’ll talk to you about it later. Best of luck,” Wyn replies.

It has been almost two weeks since Budd left the company, and Wyn still hasn’t managed to meet up with him. The emptiness left by Budd's departure is more pronounced, making each workday feel like a drag. Currently, Wyn is grappling with a new project, struggling with coding issues and falling behind schedule. His frustration reaches a boiling point, and he feels like he might pull his own hair out.

At this moment, Wyn's thoughts drift to Aon, one of his boss's favorites whom he and Pla discussed weeks ago. Aon is known to be the query expert among the four of them. While Wyn's ego is big enough, he knows when he's defeated. Just when Wyn is about to click on Aon's name to initiate a chat with her, he notices one change to her profile card which appears when hovering a mouse over her name. Under her name, it now says “manager” instead of “assistant manager.”

The discovery floods Wyn with emotions. First, a numbness envelops his mind, followed by a pounding heart. Disbelief and anger soon take over, making his whole body tremble. His hands shake violently, and he grinds his teeth in frustration.

"Maybe there's an error," Wyn tries to reason with himself. "Maybe HR didn't get the memo."

Determined to get answers, Wyn decides to play it cool and send Aon a congratulatory message.

"Hey Aon, CONGRATS on the promotion!"

The wait for a response is excruciating. Wyn keeps staring at the chat, his agitation growing with each passing second. After five long minutes, Aon finally replies.

"Oh! Thanks! How did you know?"

"It shows on your profile card."

"Oh dang. Completely forgot about that. But still, thanks :)"

Upon seeing what he didn't want to see, he weirdly feels nothing. There are no more emotions. He's still shaking, though less than before. He stares at the ceiling, closing his eyes.

"I don't want to live like this anymore," he thinks to himself.

Wyn decides to take a drastic step. He texts his boss, "Hi boss. I'm resigning. Will fill out the form and forward it to you for your signature. Please also approve my special request for a two-week notice. Thank you."

The rest of the workday is spent lying in bed. Wyn attempts to nap but ends up rolling from side to side, sobbing uncontrollably. He recognizes that jealousy is a part of his emotional turmoil, but it's also the overwhelming sense of unfairness that drives him to despair. Exhausted, he finally falls asleep.

He wakes up to his phone ringing. The time is now 4:56 p.m. and he’s surprised to have napped for two hours. Answering the call from his boss, Wyn clears his throat.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Hello."

"What happened?" his boss asks.

"I, ah, I have mental issues, like depression. I need, need, like really need, to get some h...help. I'm completely burned out because of it," Wyn replies, his voice trembling as his heart races.

"Depression? That sounds severe. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, not really, but thank you."

"Do you have a new job lined up? If not, why not stay with us a bit longer and use your remaining leaves when you find one?"

"I need more time than that. I need, like, at least a month. Yeah, at least a month, I think."

"Well, if you say so. Submit the form soon, okay? The notice period you requested is quite short."

"Noted. Thank you." Wyn hesitates before asking, "May I also know how Aon managed to get a promotion this year despite what you told us?"

"You knew? Well, as you know, she just mortgaged a house with her boyfriend. That's a lot of financial burden. I wanted to help, so I appealed to the company as a special case."

After a long pause, Wyn thanks his boss and ends the call. The reasons given for Aon’s promotion sound like blatant lies – why would the company feel obligated to help her just because she mortgaged a house of her own accord? Though he’s too mentally exhausted to be truly angry, Wyn resigns himself to the fact that the department will eventually find out the truth. For now, he decides he doesn’t need any more drama.

Staring blankly at the wall, Wyn shuffles to the kitchen. He takes a sleeping pill with a glass of water, opting for no supper tonight – just the hope of a deep sleep. Fortunately, the pill works its magic, allowing him to rest his weary mind.

Two weeks later, Wyn considers himself a “free man.” His last days at work were awkward; there was no farewell party, and he didn’t mention his resignation to anyone. He received a handful of farewell messages from colleagues after leaving the group chat, including one from Pla, who was visibly heartbroken to see him go.

Now, every day feels like a weekend. Wyn sends out his resume, but despite several interviews in the first two months, he either finds himself overqualified or mismatched with the interviewers. He even went out of his way to pray at various shrines for luck. As the months go by without success, he begins to feel discouraged. He eventually stops applying for jobs, refusing to see his situation as a predicament or to admit he might have made a mistake.

His mental stability is hard to gauge. While he enjoys the freedom, he sometimes feels worthless, burdened by society’s expectation that productivity equals earning money. There are days when he wakes up feeling great, free of worry, but others when he feels utterly worthless and contemplates ending it all.

With his savings dwindling, Wyn considers starting his own business but is unsure where to start. The business landscape has changed drastically since his parents’ time, with many new establishments failing within a few years. He once thought about creating content for “uWuTube,” but his camera shyness held him back. He took an online course in mobile app coding, enjoying it initially but realizing he couldn’t make a living from it alone. He lacks the inherited wealth necessary to invest in cutting-edge technology and human capital. Though his family is well-off, he feels they've done enough financially and asking for more would be taboo.

Wyn’s enthusiasm for exploring new ideas begins to wane. He starts sleeping later and later, often staying up until dawn watching “uWuTube” and “The Adventurous Hamsters.” His sleep cycle becomes erratic, with bedtimes ranging from 7:00 a.m. to 9:00 a.m. and wake times between 6:00 p.m. and 8:00 p.m. Nightmares become frequent – dreams of unprepared exams and trying to fit in with friends from his student days. Despite all this, the antidepressants remain untouched.

He manages to appear normal when meeting Budd or visiting his parents in the south of the country, who remain unaware of his employment status. Other than these visits, he rarely leaves his room. When not distracted, his mind drifts to dark places. Everything he watches and plays grows stale, and he becomes increasingly reluctant to leave his room, see people, or face judgment.

All he wishes for is, "I want to disappear."

Wyn’s focus slowly shifts to how and when. Each morning, right after waking up, he researches on methods that would be the least painful. His new routine involves scouring the dark web and supplementing his findings with scientific facts from other online sources. He meticulously weighs the pros and cons of each method. After thorough deliberation, he settles on one method he feels most comfortable with. In Tideland, where the law is lax, everything he needs is readily available and legally. Wyn sources everything he requires through an e-commerce platform.

With the method chosen, Wyn turns his attention to how to make a dramatic exit. Over the next two days, he considers various options.

"I could take those who’ve wronged me in the past with me." An idea Wyn quickly dismisses due to the complexity it would involve.

"Maybe I should write a manifesto calling for people to stand up against the elites," he thinks as he chuckles at the thought.

"How about posting random chilling notes all over my room?" he considers, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Finally, he decides, "I’ll write letters to everyone I want to have last words with, print them out, and scatter them on my bed. Yes, that’s the plan." He doesn’t set a specific date. Once the letters are done, he plans to spend the remainder of his money on expensive food.

One week later, the letters are finished and printed. There are twelve in total. Seven are directed at people he still holds grudges against, filled with harsh words and a common theme of expressing his desire to haunt them if the afterlife exists. The remaining five are thank-you letters, including one for Budd and one for his parents. In Budd’s letter, he thanks him for being the brother he never knew he needed and wishes him and his wife well. In his letter to his parents, he expresses gratitude for their past care and apologizes for the pain his decision will cause them. There is also a thirteenth letter, short and addressed to someone peculiar.

“

Dear God, if you exist...

There are many things I want to ask you.

How could you allow the world to become what it is today?

How could you allow me onto this earth, knowing what I was to become?

How could you let me die?

Maybe you are not as powerful as people believe you to be.

Come visit me in hell. Let's have a chat. But knowing you, you'd neglect me anyway.

“

The letters are neatly piled to the left of his laptop. Wyn looks at them with a satisfied smile, feeling a rare sense of serenity. For the first time in years, he feels a profound relief.

Abruptly, he exclaims, "Oh no! What should I eat?"

As the fifth “beep” sounds from the digital alarm clock, Wyn rolls over to turn it off. The clock shows 6:00 p.m. It’s the first alarm since he left his job. He lies still, smiling at the ceiling. His mind is blank, devoid of nightmares, though he had taken sleeping pills the previous night. All the equipment he needs is already in his bedroom. He jumps out of bed, showers, and dresses in his favorite clothes: a white cotton tee, beige chino shorts, white low-cut socks, and black-and-white sneakers. He sits at the end of the bed, carefully reading the instructions he wrote for himself, determined not to make any mistakes.

He puts down the instructions and reflects:

"Would I have come to this end if I hadn't returned to Tideland?"

"Had my parents not sent me to Cannothing, what kind of person would I be now?"

"If I had started my career elsewhere, would my life be better?"

He walks over to his desk, grabs the letters, and spreads them randomly on his bed. He’s now ready. Following the instructions meticulously, tears flow uncontrollably, blurring his vision. He lies face up on the bed, his knees resting on the edge with his shoes touching the floor, careful not to dirty his bed even at a time like this. As he waits, memories of his past flash through his mind like a rapid movie reel. His final thoughts emerge clearly:

"I would happily trade my life for someone who is dying right now."

"I hate life. I hate people. I hate work. I hate God."

"But I know... I hate myself the most..."

And with that, his final breath draws. Wyn is no more.