I read.

I went through the "remembrances" section of CanTeen, an organisation that supports kids and teenagers with cancer of many sorts, and for a little while, I wished I had an entry on the "remembrance" site.

 

I've always been the melodramatic sort.

 

Imagine dying a death that for years after, people speak of in hushed tones, whispered behind velvet hands and slowly, as the years go by, the stories become more and more embellished so that by the end of it all, I didn't just put a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger.

 

I shot myself the first time and the bullet ricocheted off my spine, exiting through my right cheek. Still in pain and cursing my fate, I then picked the gun up again and attempted to embed a bullet in my left temple but I ended up taking a chunk of ear off instead. Bleeding profusely and in desperation, I shot myself 5 times in the stomach, all rather fatal wounds but dang it, I'm still breathing. It's only when I finally bit the bullet (no pun intended) and put the gun in my mouth with the barrel pointing up that I pulled the trigger and a fountain of grey matter and the resulting crimson sauce stopped the heart from beating and finally ended this mortal curse of living.

 

Woah.

 

Imagine how much clean up needs to be done. Honestly.