1 Sunday, 5 December 2021 13:00 : Second Advent

I will die.

This book is written in my darkest hour. I feel the the pain, mental pain that crushes one. I can hardly breathe. I feel a crushing pain on my chest. I can no longer. Only quarrels my father kicks in my door. Perhaps these are my last thoughts on this earth. I will die, I will die now. But how? With pills? Or do I cut my blood vessels. I can't anymore. I feel lonely in this world. I can't stand my life anymore. I want to die. What should I do. I can't stop crying anymore. I am suffocating. I want to be alone. My blood pressure is rising and I'm bleeding from my nose. How much longer do I have to endure this?

I don't feel anything. I dry my eyes. I have to get out of here. How am I supposed to do that? Should I just run away. It's the second advent where should I go. I hate Christmas, you just pretend that everything is fine. You numb yourself with food and presents. You try to forget this cruel world. But as soon as you wake up, the pain is only stronger.