As he sat down with a pen and paper,

He started crying.

He cried uncontrollably without a pause.

But when he stopped,

It was as if nothing had happened.

He started writing and soon all his thoughts were on the piece of paper.

He wanted to write a lot but kept it short.

Then he glanced at what all he wrote down and felt a certain heaviness lift up
from his chest.

He was glad that he made this decision.

Slowly he got up, placed the paper on the table and went to lie on his bed.

As he lay on the bed, he had flashbacks of the good times he had.

The good memories which he cherished.

The memories made his body numb.

So numb that he didn't feel any pain at all.

The pain of slitting his own throat and ridding himself of all the burden put on him
by others.