The yelling, the screaming, it never did cease. He was in a realm of pure rivalry, with no chance of peace. His childhood involved neglect, his adolescence entailed contention. With all this in mind, it was no wonder he turned to self-mutilation. In a turn for the worse, he chose to turn to the blade, and lose himself in cuts as his rationality continued to fade. In an attempt to release inner frustration, he would cut himself and relinquish all bottled-up tension. Again and again, he would sigh sweet release, as that razor glided over his wrist with the slightest of ease. Little did he know, this was only the beginning. Never did he expect to be so far from winning. On one particular day, he made the mistake of looking in the mirror, and, as he witnessed his own doing, he could not hold back one tear. It was then that he realized HE was the cause of his own pain, and this realization led him to conclude he was living his life in vain. They found his body hours later, his throat slit... A pool of blood reflecting what he hated to admit. In the end, we are ignorant if we think we could never be in his place, because realizing WE are our own enemies isn't so simple a reality to face.
