Lies. I've been lying to myself ever since I started walking five hours ago after I left the house. I never really wanted to buy a book. I was scared, that's why. I was scared of me... or whatever I was doing to myself. I tried to ask some help from some of my friends but, not directly telling them that I 'need' help and no one does ever responded or tried to ask why. I messaged Jon and he just thought that I was insane. I tried to ask this one girl who told me that she'll be there whenever I need help but, she was busy hanging out with her friends so, I did not bother her anymore. So, I was walking alone, by myself, with my own thoughts, telling me to hurt myself because I fucking deserve it. That... just proved to me what fucking phonies they are. I can't blame them though, we have our own lives to live and own lives to stress about.

I lied to myself that after I finish this walk-trip, everything will be fine. My mind will be back to normal but God... It won't get out of my head... her face, my Mom's face, tears running down on her cheeks, sobbing like a child, afraid of her own son... It's like a nightmare, except that it was true.

I remember, earlier that day, everything was fine. I did my chores and all that stuff that needs to be done but, when she came home from the local market, she'll be shooting me all of these endless complaints about the house and how imperfect the household chores were done- nothing is perfect for her or good enough for her, except her 'pride' I guess. The lioness of the house keeps roaring until she hit the spot where she spoke about me, slacking around with study, procrastinating, hanging out late with my friends, getting drunk and all, not knowing about my hellish week of reviewing lessons, answering tests, taking responsibilities on my outputs and all that shitty-fucking-non-sense stuff. I got mad of course, just one day for me, a day for ignoring all the problems and I'm an irresponsible piece of shit... and now, we're both mad.... then we had an argument about her pride and how she hurt my ego and all that stuff... but... I wanted to tell her about me, about what I'm suffering right now... my anxiety, the sleepless nights, how I lose weight, how I can no longer taste my food, random panic attacks, the trouble of breathing, and how tired I am with studying... But no, all I said to her- yelled to her... was, "Have you ever asked how I've been?! What I'm feeling right now?! Or what's wrong with me?!" and then she asked me, holding back her tears, "Then tell me! What is your problem?"

I wanted to tell her...

I really do...

How tired I am...

How mentally unstable I was...

But I just sat there, and said nothing...

And then she started crying...

I thought about it. Why she cried. Maybe, because, she has realized it, that I failed her. I should have not raised my voice to her. I should have just... tell her that I'm sorry if I came home late that night, drunk. It's my fucking problem. I always shut my mouth when I should have said something, and I always open it with vigorous voice whenever there's an argument... and I always have an argument with my mom, and that was the time when she looked at me, waiting for my answers from her question, and did not get any words, but the face of his oldest child with tears flowing down on his cheeks. She cried because, I made her see not just my failure, but also hers. I can't truly explain why she cried, but that's not the point here. The point is, she cried, and she cried because of me. I can never forgive myself for what I've done. Never.

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I ran into my room, hopped into my bed and buried myself in the pillow for them not to hear my cries. I wanted to scream as loud as my lungs can. I was pulling my hair so hard, and then there it was, my mind began to whisper to me. It told me how insignificant I am as a person, and that my existence is no longer need in this place... and then other thoughts flow into my mind like a river. I was tired about everything around me, that everything I do wasn't good enough to achieve something good, that I'm surrounded by fucking phonies, and that my mind will kill me soon enough so, I tried to punch myself several times, I punched my cheek so hard, and my lips that it left a small cut in it. I tried to push my long fingernail into my wrist, I push so hard but it won't penetrate my fucking skin, so I went into the bathroom and took a shower... then I started punching my face again... then the wall, I started punching the wall as hard as I can and at first hit, it landed in the flat wall and I felt nothing... I remember smiling while I'm doing these terrible things. I wanted to cry but, it wasn't enough, so, I decided to tire myself out. If I walk under the sun and worn myself out, will I die? Or I'll die in any outdoor unfortunate circumstances?

I tried to cut my wrist that day, with a knife... but my little sister almost saw me. I also tried to overdose myself with pills but, we only have kid's vitamins and vitamins for skincare...

I remember all of it now. Why I started this stupid walk-trip. Now, I know what to do.

The security guard was just walking around like a moron. Boy, the security here will be the death of me, I'm certain of that. I stood up and walk over into one of the attendants and borrowed her pen. I went back into my table and open the book and wrote something on the last page...

"Every life has its own meaning, and I want mine to be ironic and full of metaphors."

You've heard all of my complaints in life, it's dumb I know. You might think that I'm insane, go on then, just think of it, you may be right, you may be wrong, besides, it's just thoughts. So, I open my bag, removed everything inside of it, a towel, my umbrella, hand-sanitizer, my empty wallet, and the knife I took with me from the kitchen. I told you, the security here will be the death of me.

I felt eyes judging me at the moment. Some people were confused, so... I took a deep breath and stabbed my stomach with the knife twice, simultaneously. I didn't quite felt the first stab but there's a sting, and the second one, Oh God the second one, I felt the blade in my flesh, and then I heard screams everywhere, women screams. I managed to look around and see if they're still here, the family, but they were gone, and I am thankful that they are not here anymore, they won't see me bled, and I'm happy for it... and then I started to shed tears... I started crying... oh boy, how wrecked my mind is, to do this thing. I was expecting someone who could just come over and try to help me but when I looked around, they were just standing there, yelling 'Help!', no one dared to come over to remove the... this fucking knife in my belly. I finally saw the guard running towards me, so I did my best to pull the knife out... and stab my self into my neck... and then it was blurry... and then I was scared... and... and then it was silent, as always.