Tristan sat at his desk in class staring at the clouds slowly drift by outside the window.

He never paid attention the boring lecture going on at the front of the classroom. The teacher just droned on and on about useless information about the Romans and the Indus River Valley. Every day to him was just a monotonous cycle of the same boring things over and over again. He never understood how people took any interest in speaking to each other about random and unimportant information. Everyone else in the class was either closely paying attention to the teacher at the front of the classroom or trying not to fall asleep. He never had to worry about passing his classes because no matter what he did he always aced those tests made for the common idiot.

As he watched the clouds go by he was thinking deeply about many things as he always was.

"Why is existence so boring? What gives me this deep feeling of metaphysical dysphoria?"

"Why can't life be exciting and interesting like a fantasy novel or an online video game?"

"How is everyone else content with their boring existence? How do they stand it?"

*briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*

As Tristan brooded on these dark questions the lunch bell rang breaking him out of his stupor. He gathered his stuff into his backpack and headed for the door. The hallways of the school were always so crowded that it made him feel dehumanized like he was just one fish in a school or one fly in a swarm. He was just one of the many unimportant human beings going about their daily lives. This thought was one of his greatest fears. Being unimportant and insignificant.

"Why should I even try to live? Is it worth it?"

"Life just seems meaningless and boring..."

As Tristan caught himself thinking dark thoughts he shook his head and stopped thinking about it. As he finally got out of the crowd of people in hallways and into a less crowded one he felt the knot in his chest lessen greatly. He went down the stairs of the building to the lunchroom where he waited in line patiently for his food. As he got his food and inspected it he could see it would another day with no lunch. He would rather go hungry than eat this low-quality slop.

As he took his food to an empty table and sat down he gazed around at the people around him. They all seemed to be happy, eating and laughing with their friends. He didn't understand how they were so happy. Did they not know how meaningless their lives were? Or were they just so ignorant that they never thought about it? He knew the fault lay with him for not being able to enjoy himself. But even though he knew that it couldn't fix the hole he felt in his heart. He sat there at his table growing more and more somber and depressed.

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After half and hour of brooding, lunch was over and it was time to go back to class. The bell rang and he went back through the halls feeling alone and insignificant. When he got back to class he took his seat at his desk and continued contemplating his life and staring out at the peaceful white clouds drifting by in the sky.

After the rest of his classes, the day was over and it was time to go home. His home wasn't a place where he could relax either, however. He lived with his schizophrenic father and his bitch of a stepmother. He hated being at home. He walked to his bus and got on. After about half an hour the school bus reached his stop and let him off.

When he got back home and opened the door he looked around and stared at the mess that was his home. It was a mess. There were trash bags everywhere and he could see dead roaches on the ground. It was disgusting. He hated his parents and his home. They were idiots who were drug addicts and yelled at each other all the time. They weren't at home they were out somewhere doing god knows what.

Instead of sticking around in the filth that was his house he decided to get on his bike and ride around the neighborhood. He walked his bike out the front door and hopped on. Cycling calmed his mind. He loved the way the wind felt on his face and enjoyed the physical exercise. He rode around on the streets for about an hour thinking about his situation in life. He knew the facts about how most people would never leave the socioeconomic situation that their parents were in. Even though he thought he was intelligent, he felt like he was doomed to a life of mediocrity and poverty. His thoughts haunted and tormented his life.

He didn't know why he was so depressed today but the thoughts of his insignificance and meaninglessness plagued his mind. He decided he would do it. He had looked it up before many times late at night when he was dreading going back to school. He was going to kill himself.

He rode his bike home and dropped it off at the front door before going inside. He knew where his dad kept a gun in case someone ever broke in. He walked into his Dad's room and grabbed the handgun from inside the case he kept in his back closet. As he held the gun in his hand he was scared.

He didn't want to die.

But he had to do it. He dreaded a life of depression and monotony more than he feared his own death.

But he didn't want to die.

It was for the best he told himself. He hated his life and everything in it. He didn't want to work a nine-to-five job that he hated for forty years. It's best you do it now rather than suffer forty more years and do it later he thought to himself.

But he didn't want to die.

He steeled himself for the deed even though he was scared. He knew it was for the best. Anything had to be better than his life now. He didn't believe in God but he hoped he didn't end up in hell.

With his mind racing at full speed with his head full of fearful and depressed thoughts he put the gun up to his head and took the gun off safety. He aimed it at his temple and pulled the trigger, thereby ending his sad life.

Congratulations on your death! Because of your actions during your life, you will be reincarnated.