“جيسي.” The radio demon called from the door, making you jump startled and drop the knife. Oh no.

“As much as I enjoy a good dish this is no hour to prepare yourself a meal... So what are you doing with the knife?”

Oh, god. Not that question. How could you explain what were you about to do? What were you about to do to yourself, and what kind of twisted thoughts has driven you to despise yourself so much that you felt forced to harm yourself to compensate the waste of space and air your existence costs? There was just no simple way to say it, but you have no escape either...