(A/N: This is my first story for Fanfiction. It might be a bit cliche, but I hope I can get better. Still, comments and constructive criticism encourage me, and are extremely appreciated. )

Psychiatrists say that, when something tragic happens, people go through five stages of grief.

First, denial. The person tells themselves that what has happened, hasn't. Most of the time, they are quite aware it did happen, so this stage seems silly.

Second, anger. This fury can be directed at anything and anyone, even themselves.

Then, bargaining. The person attempts to convince the fates to reverse time and fix everything. Often, they offer something in exchange, not always tangible. As you can imagine, the request is rarely, if ever, fulfilled.

Next, depression. Arguably the worst stage, and in most cases the longest.

Finally, acceptance. The person comes to terms with the event, and gradually returns to normal.

But some people don't make it all the way. All too often, someone finds a detour. A detour that always leads to a dead end. This is called suicide.

This is the tale of one boy's journey through the stages. How he crossed the despair event horizon, and came back again.

This is the story of Dipper Pines, accidental killer.