(Screw schedules. Anyways, this talks about suicide. Just warning ya.)

With only a few months, Jimmy had already been arranged to marry someone.

It wasn't going to happen until years later but he hated it. The thought of being a signed peace treaty and contract was disgusting to him.

But whatever made his mother happy.

His father was upset about the contract, telling her how it wasn't fair. It already wasn't fair on them anyways being born to them but Jimmy guesses they just ignored it.

He wished he wasn't born.

Then maybe his parents would be satisfied and happy. Maybe his brother would be still in the palace, destined to be king. But Jimmy didn't have a choice on the matter.

Turns out, the person he was arranged to marry was his best friend. He hadn't seen him since he was six during his birthday party that went wrong.

It didn't make him feel any better.

---

Over time, he began to become more rude.

He was the prince afterall, he could do whatever he pleased. The villagers were commoners, people beneath him. His sister wasn't going to be a fit ruler. He would be though.

His mother's lessons taught him this.

He had to constantly think of himself as better or it wasn't true. She didn't want it to be fake. So he continued to smile.

His flashy crown sat on his head, tan gems glittered wistfully on top. The rest of his outfit was much the same; collared shirt, tie, and vest on the top and silky trousers covering his legs. A cloak was always situated over his shoulders, planted tight.

The regal life took him by storm.

---

He took a sip of the expensive wine, knowing it tasted god awful but it was expensive. To show he was rich.

His sister looked at him from across the table, gazing over him. They hadn't seen each other in a few months. Jimmy was eight years old now.

No longer was he the peace treaty between his parents. He was a forever reminder that they would fight and continue to do so.

Jimmy had become disgusted by his father and inherently so, Lizzie became another target. She was being brought up under his guide so she was destined to be another axolotl ruler.

Not when Jimmy is through with it.

He ate his lunch delicately, sipping the soup politely as he did so. He had learned from ten licks to his skin that to be proper is to be quiet.

Lizzie on the other hand-

"Wow, isn't this good?" She asked, taking a loud slurp of her soup. Jimmy scrunched his nose with disdain.

"Stop being rude." He glared but Lizzie didn't stop. She continued to slurp like she hadn't heard his pleas.

"Clam chowder, your personal favorite if I remember correctly." She made a point in getting it all over her face like a barbarian. Like Jimmy had done years ago as a child.

His face turned red with embarrassment. "God, you're such an embarrassment." He finished his bowl, huffing as the servant quickly ran to take it. They spilled a bit a few drops on the table. "My goodness, not even a pitiful servant can do anything right in this damn castle." Jimmy scoffed, the servant running away with their head bowed.

"Jimmy! Be nice to the servants!" Lizzie shouted from across the table, all funny business gone. "They help us! We are nothing without them!"

"And they are nothing without us." Jimmy cooly said, smirking as she glared at him.

"Jimmy, I'm being serious-"

"Whatever." He grumbled, getting up and leaving the room.

---

He didn't know why this came about. It was an impulsive decision just that day after he had ran from the dining room.

But now?

Comes the end to our story.

A long, knotted rope hung from a bar in his walk-in closet. A noose as most calls it. One that he inteded to hang himself on.

He had even stood on the chair, feeling numb as he looked around his room. His face was blank, no emotions were able to come out. Why should their be? His short life was already a disaster. No need to prolong the endless groundhog day he was trapped in.

He put his head into the noose and kicked the chair back.

His face turned blue from lack of oxygen. He couldn't breathe. His hands clawed at his throat unconsciously. He wanted this yet his natural body processes were telling him to just breathe. He didn't however.

His eyes were closing slowly. His arms were tired. They drooped at his sides. One last fluttering of his eyes and he could see the light. Bright, blinding light.

And then he fell.