Phillip works as a doctor in a psych ward. After years of leading his company he grew tired of battle, but wanted to remain working; so he put his former degree to a use and became a psychiatrist in the psych ward at the hospital.

He’s seen many patients come and go, some easier than others; what he doesn’t expect is a little child, a little boy at the mere age of thirteen, admitted for a failed attempt.

“What are you doing here, honey? You’re not even old enough to know how bad life gets.” Phillip leans forward, the hands propping his chin up rested on top of his knees. He looks perplexed.

“Obviously doctor, you’re not a thirteen year old boy.” Your words aren’t said with much emotion, your soul seemingly already ripped from your body. Phillip feels both shame and sadness wash over him.