I looked down at my journal, the page empty. I hadn't written anything in days. What was going to become of me? At school, no one ever noticed me. Why should they, I'm just a peice of junk. No one cared for me. I was so, so lonely. I felt like I had no one. But then, he came.

Death was so relieving, so free, I gratefully accepted Death and I was whisked away into the night.

I now wander these halls, looking for ideas. I look for lost souls like me, and I help them.

Everyone that I know always asks the same question when they think of me.

"Why so soon..?"

The moral of this story is to never give up. If you do, the goal in mind "dies" and you quit too soon. So you ask yourself "Why did I quit so soon?" I hope everyone realizes this..

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