I said while looking up, while laying in bed.

I should actually be in school right now, but I'm not because I shut myself in my room. 

That's right, I became a shut-in NEET you see in a lot of anime.

 But I have good reason for it... 

Or at least that's what I try to tell myself. 

That being depressed was a good reason for staying in your room for the last two months.

And if you're wondering how I'm still alive even after being in my room for two months, my brother would come upstairs to my room to give me food.

If your wondering why I'm depressed though, well, that's easy to explain.

First of all, I had this really beautiful girlfriend, who shared my interests.

But sadly, she cheated on me with my bully, of course.

For the second, and main reason...

My dad died.

Other than my brother, he was the only one who genuinely cared for me.

My sister hates me, cause, well, cause she's a bitch.

And my mom only cares about my performance at school, not "me".

Suddenly, I heard a knock on my door.

"I'll leave this here for you.", before the plate softly clattered on to the floor behind it.

It was my brother, and he left me some food.

I heard his footsteps softly going away from the door, then a stop.

"If you need help overcoming this, you have me you know?"

He said with his usual soft tone, before walking away.

Slowly, I opened the door, looking at the food he left me.

It was some curry rice, mild, just how I like it.

I really appreciate his efforts of trying to cheer me up, but, I don't think I can, for now, or ever really.

I took the plate, holding it by the edge, before closing the door behind me.

"Thank you for the food."

I then slowly started to eat.

After eating, I placed the plate outside rather than going down to the sink, as I had done for the last two months.

Then...

"You're scum, you know that?"

It was my sister, dressing inappropriately as usual.

She was here to do her thing, be a bitch, as always.

"You're better off dying, like how our useless dad did."

That last part really ticked me off, but I didn't do anything about it.

Instead, I went back into my room, enjoying the 'comfort' and 'security' it provided, but that was all just lies I told myself, as an excuse to stay here.

"You're better off dying, you know? Just like that useless father of ours did."

That first part, it made me think.

I always heard him getting scolded by mom and my sister for still trying to help me.

It would be a win, for my brother, and for them.

I then look up at my roof, just blank, a white painted concrete ceiling.

Empty, just like me.

"I guess, I should just die."

I stand up, turning to my desk.

Looking through the items I placed in organizers and pen holders, I found my box cutter.

I grabbed it, gripping tightly.

I place it up to my neck, before hesitating.

"Wait, I'm going to spill blood everywhere."

That's what I thought.

Rather than being afraid of dying, I was afraid of making a mess as I died.

I walked out onto the balcony of my room.

People are outside, and since our house was in a crowded neighborhood, there was a lot of people.

Once again, I placed the box cutter next to my neck, but this time, I slit it, without hesitation.

Falling from the railing, I saw my brother outside running to me.

He looks terrified, he really does care for me.

And in the corner of my eyes, I see someone, a girl, who vaguely resembles my girlfriend.

I guess, this is it.