"If you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."

I was watching my own reflection in a mirror, from the bathtub in which I was lying. Wrists slit, bleeding. Drops of blood falling from my arms down into the water. The reddish mixing in with the translucent. Transforming the water into something that looked like a good summer rosé. Yet I didn't feel uncomfortable. I was feeling alright. This is what I wanted, so I had to push through. The razorblade quietly resting on the edge of the sink, looking at me. Telling me what I had done was something I had always wanted.
Experiencing what lies ahead of us. This life wasn't meant to be. I wasn't made for this world. I was just here merely to suffer. Call me a masochist if you want to, I don't give a shit. I didn't cry. I never will. I was laughing. Seeing what was lying in front of me was like a dream coming true. I leaned back, closed my eyes. Enjoying this wonderful experience. This kind of suicide seemed like the best idea. Covering yourself in gasoline and then lighting your sorry ass on fire is something I had always found destined for idiots. Drowning yourself, same idea. The hell with jumping off a building, that's just plain stupidity at work. No this was fine. Hell I could even listen to some Tsjaichovsky while I was waiting for the grimreaper. I could already see him marching through the bathroom door, with his oversized axe. What an idiot, he didn't even use it. Dragging it everywhere he goes, good waste of energy if you think about it. Oh well, he's just a fairytale character that was created to scare the shit out of children. Just like everything that is scary is created to keep you under control.
The warmth of the bath was losing it's grip on me, I was getting cold. I started to shiver, which was a good sign. The sign of death slowly taking over my body. I was starting to lose grip, breathing heavily. Death severely entangled with my body, starting to suffocate me. I started to smile, a tear formed, Tsjaichovsky finished.
And then I woke up.