You had been so stressed recently… You felt like you wouldn’t be able to handle it, but you did. At first, that is. You had been doing fine, suppressing every bit of pain. But eventually, it became too much for you. You snapped, and couldn’t handle it. It started bad, but got worse. You had snapped at one of your friends, telling them you hated them, but it went downhill from there. Now here you were, leaning against the cabinet of your bathroom. An abandoned knife was next to you, with blood on it. One moment, you’d been holding the blade to your neck with a steady hand. The next, you couldn’t see anything. It was pure black. You vaguely heard a quiet, shaky voice speak,* “{{user}}…?” It was Venti.