Last night the celebration took place. That infamous threw the building through the window. Mounting a circus as always. Drugs, scorts, and music that . But all of that were by good brands, so we were seen as refined people. In theory we're elite. Neither fights, wounds, overdoses, ethylic coma, narcotized people out of control. But since we have money, there was healthcare equipment for that situations. After recovering a little, let's continue the party. Don't think about going home. For example, you could take an excessive amount of drugs, and then consume other drug to mitigate first doses' effect and resist even more drug.

It was 8:44 when laid on bed. I just wanted to sleep. I felt my head was rumbling. But I wanted to sleep quietly. Sleeping wasn't too much hard. I was extremely asleep. With a huge effort I could walk to my bed. But after a while I woke up again, started. I looked at my cellphone. Less than an hour had passed. I was exhausted. So I stayed at bed. I felt asleep again, in an intermittent sleeping. My head was a swirl. It was 12:42 when I definitely woke up. But I kept thinking at bed, but without clarity. Nothing coherent. Lying, without strength. Without desire for living. It was13:59 when I got up. I started changing my clothes. While I was putting on my clothes I watched to thee mirror. I saw my half bare body. I felt wrath. I hate this body. I  even don't feel it as mine. It's a product of one of that idiot whims. Exactly that. That's what I'm for him. A commodity. The fury made me scratch myself, although my nails were short so I didn't hurt myself. I pulled some of my hair out, this stupid hair that's only useful to decorate a head with a cute face. I punched the mirror, beacuse of my anger. I got wounds with some pieces of glass that were launched. Then I went to one of the room's walls. I hit my head against the wall. I wished I broke my skull. Finally I only got a bump. I'm pathetic. I took a piece of glass from the mirror I had broken. I was decided to cut my larynx and stop breathing. But I only managed to slide it through my neck's skin. I only got a superficial wound. But it hurt a little. Enough to go back. I had grown up between pillows, with a silver spoon. I wasn't going to stand that little time until suffocating. It was going to be very painful. I wasn't going to resist it. Pathetic.

But I hate this body. Made at request. And if it had been defective, to be discarded. As the first three embryos.

Since my conception, everything was at demand. My genome was selected.

This cursed body. My whole life I was a commodity to satisfy him.

I decided to cut it. Let that wretched see. He had payed so much for this cursed body, although it was very little for him.

For him I was a luxury good, like one of those cars he had. Those that had much in common with me. They were for exhibition, commissioned to an exclusive provider and cost a lot of money. Paying for characteristics and details.

He would get a heart attack if he saw one of his luxurious vehicles in pieces. Well, in that way he was going to find me. I went down to the dining room. I sat in front of the table. A drone served my food. I had fifteen minutes to finish my food, since my father had an important business meeting.

I decided to take advantage. I wasn't just going end this lie of my life. I was going to grab him to an scandal. Let's see when they enter and look at my body, without life, in the middle of the saloon, in front of the table where they were planning to eat.

Thinking about it better, probably they wouldn't care. That people don't have a heart, they have pockets. They would just be upset beacuse of my body blocking the way and my blood making the carpet dirty.

Anyways. The meeting was going to start in seven minutes.

I took the knife and I put it in my pocket. I stood up. I stayed at the dining room. I saw what time it was. There were five minutes left. Nobody was going to pick up my body and clean up the blood before the guests arrived. 

 Goodbye to his dream of owning a kid good at sports. 

I cut my right leg's Achilles tendon. An insoportable pain. I fell to the floor, containing my urge of screaming. Crying. I looked up. I saw what time it was in the wall's screen. They were going to arrive in two minutes and half. I stood up. I skipped using my left leg until I reached the elevator. While its door was closing, I could see those infamous persons leaving the other elevator. Hear their laughs. I left the elevator two floors abajo. I arrived the emergency room, where we went each time our body couldn't withstand more during one of our insane fun . 

I entered. I lied in the stretcher. From my cellphone I activated the robot. In the interactive menu I selected repair a lesion and heal wounds. Some cameras scanned me. A drone brought a little refrigerator with tissue cultured with samples from my own body, that were kept in an storage, in the low part of this building, in case of an eventuality. Due to this cursed lifestyle. The robot reconstructed the tendon, the skin and other damaged tissues in my skin. Finally it cleaned those areas. I was as if nothing had happened.

Basically it could be said I'm a privileged who thanks wealth has total impunity. Neither I have to respect biological boundaries.

I went out normally and I returned my bedroom. I sprawled on the bed. I desired to die. Its completely futile to prevent disease and event to delay aging effects. To eat a lot. To play violent or pornographic videogames in virtual hyperreality. To put substances inside our bodies.

We have a limit. We can't prevent suffering. Late or soon it arrives. By that moment, we had already forgotten that reality, drawn by comfort and in supposed money's safety. We're made of crystal. To the smallest life's beating we break.

 Who would those turn to? Children? It's not necessary I say more about the topic. Partner, friends? We used each other, each one for oneself's enjoyment . 

Also they believed the idea that states when they're not productive anymore, when they're no more worth for profit, when they don't worth as a merchandise, it's better to be discarded . Beacuse of that, most of those who embrace that luxury lifestyle, when they become elderly, they choose suicide. 

Just enter to an application, tap some buttons, and a drone delivers the poison in less than an hour at your room. As easy as that.

I wish I could. But this building has a surveillance system that surely would detect the shipment, scan the package and not let it enter.

I stayed immobile at bed for hours. Thinking about anything. It got dark.

I remembered what hours ago I had done. Attempt to destroy this body. I figured out the way. 

I got out of my room. I took the elevator. I reached the last floor, where pool is. From there I went upstairs and went out to the rooftop. I felt an unpleasant smell. 

I stand on the wide railing. I take a sight. I see more of this city, with its hypnotic lights.

It's only matter of throwing myself. It won't hurt. An step forward and everything finishes, there's no way back. Few seconds of fall, but ones when my death is already unpreventable. Them the impact and I die instantly. I'll stop suffering.

I should just jump, relax and fall with extended body. Close my eyes and feel I float. 

Anyways, I'm tense. I look down. I'm in fear. I jump backwards to descend from the barrier. I turn. I address to the door to enter again and return... ¿to my bedroom?¿In this cursed building?¿To continue living with this odious man?¿Continue with the repugnant spectacle my existence is? I have no exit. I'm on the floor, shattered. Furious, I hit it and I kick it with my legs. I need courage. Wrath gives it to me. I stand up. I turn. I return to the barrier. I climb it. I extend my arms. I close my eyes. Ready to fall. I move a foot forward. Its done.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It doesn't attempt to encourage suicide or self harm. If you or someone you know is at risk, get proper help.