While I stared at it I thought about everything we've done. Where we've been, and the things we did while we were there. Its funny to think of just how much damage such a small hunk of metal can do. I thought about the first time I tried to do it. 10 is to young for anyone to want to die. I can still feel the burn of the rope. The way everything started to go fuzzy. The feeling of rest as I stopped fighting it. Somehow its almost comforting. Its like the rope was my only friend, and he is still beckoning me to come and play. I'm alone now. No friends. Nothing but the dull hue of a computer screen, and the phantoms on the other end that I'll never meet.