Imagine a boy; he's 12. Average size for his age. Brownish blonde hair. He's standing right in the middle of a school playground - it's four thirty and everyone's gone. No students, no teachers, even all the after school clubs are finished. He should be outside, running to the bus stop. Except he isn't.
He's all alone. Well, almost.
There are two people, standing within three inches of one another. One is holding a knife.
"W-w-who-" the boy stammers, at a loss for words. The knife is pointed at his chest. There is no reply.
"W-what-"
He can't speak straight.
"I... I can't-"
Nothing.
"Why am I so alone?" one of them whispers.
"Everyone sees through you," whispers the other.
"Why won't anyone notice me?"
"Because you are no longer worth anything to anyone anymore."
"N-no!" he cries, shaking his head violently.
"You know, you can't deny it."
There is silence.
"H-help me..." sobs the boy, his hands shaking. "Please... Someone..."
He whimpers as the knife plunges into his chest, and drops to the ground.
The other person drops as well. He, too, is dead. 950Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIyE36AWXWv
The care taker opens a door, slightly unnerved by the voices. He stares, shouts, scrambles over and pulls out a phone; but when the police and ambulance arrive, there is only one body...
How, you ask?
It wasn't a murder. It was a suicide.
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