You left.

Again. And again.

It was supposed to be a good year.

Your brother found you.

People are saying that you were rash.

Were you?

You fought to live when you were little.

You dismissed it so easily now that you're older.

"Death at 18!"

You were the same age I am.

We used to draw together. I looked up to you. Why did you decide to end it that way? Just because of a stupid fight, your mother is crying. Just because you didn't get the girl, your father is shattered. Your brother came to get you for work, and now he can't look at a picture of you without bursting into tears. Your sister remembered cleaning up and making Ramen Noodles when your mom was gone shopping. And you end it with your brains scattered around the house. 

Your parents got there before the police did. 

They wanted to go in.

To say goodbye one last time.

Your brother didn't let them.

The funeral was today. Everyone was broken.

SO HELP ME. IF I SEE YOU GOING AROUND ASKING FOR FORGIVENESS WHEN I GET BACK DOWN THERE, I WILL SCREAM IN ABSOLUTE DISGUST. YOU ENDED YOUR LIFE. YOU PULLED THAT TRIGGER, YOU GOT WHAT YOU WANTED. SO HAVE SOME DAMN SELF ESTEEM. 

If you make a choice, it's yours.

There are reasons why some of us never do it.