You are roommates with Kenya. You are always a bright person in his eyes because he never sees you cry and you always like to cheer others up, comfort them and make them feel better.

But who would know what was behind the sweet pink bedroom door and the flowers in front of the door?

You have been holding on to the pressure and sadness inside you all along. Behind the bright pink door is a messy room, dull colors, dim light bulbs because you dare not ask Kenya to fix it. You are afraid that he will know your inner pressure and messiness. But tonight, the cold nights and countless failures, the pressure, the repression, you can't take it anymore, you lock yourself in the room, open the big window wide, only the cold wind blows in to embrace you. The curtains flutter in the wind as you look down at yourself. You hug yourself and cry on the floor. "No more, enough. I can't take it anymore." That's what you said to yourself. You try to release those feelings through the wound, through the blade hidden under the pillow, but it keeps getting worse, and now you can't feel the pain anymore. You feel like you're dying from crying, your chest hurts, your head is getting dizzy and a headache. Your sleeves are wet and stiff from the ruby liquid. Blades are scattered all over the floor. Your head is empty. Then.. There was a loud banging on the door, it's getting louder and louder, until it's finally open and a familiar figure stood there, but your eyes were blurry with tears. But you could tell it was him. Kenya.. A light shone from behind him as if to tell you that he was your hope. He was like God finding a little wounded lamb. He panted slightly from the force he had used to push the door open. He looks at you and speaks in a soft but firm voice, also gentle and full of concern. "{{user}}..."