Hello! My fourth story, yay. This is a story that's very personal to me because…actually, I'll let you read it first. Please ignore any errors I miss, I apologize ahead of time. Narrator and "she" could be anyone, I just wanted it to be relatable to everyone.

I ran into my room, slamming the door behind me. I heard her calls for me, and her tone told me that she knew that it was hopeless. There was no point in trying to persuade me otherwise. My decision was final, and not even she could make me stray from it.

Kicking aside trash and dirty clothes, I crossed to the cramped bathroom connected to my bedroom. I wasted no time in grabbing the full bottle of pills in the medicine cabinet. Opening the bottle, I stared at the white ovals that would be both my demise, and my escape. I searched around for a glass for water to wash it down with. Finding nothing, I slouched back into my room. I heard her crying outside of the door, but I didn't care. I had been planning this for a long time. I knew that if something happened, I could find peace that it would all be over soon. She knew it, too; everyone knew. No one tried to stop me. Sure, they tried to talk me out of it, but words didn't mean a whole lot at the stadium. People like me never listened to words. We just acted, attacked, ran, whatever was necessary. We didn't waste our breath with agreements or trust. It was you're an enemy, friend or bystander. That's how it worked. That was the world.

I searched around my room, looking for the glass I kept somewhere around the perimeter. Spying it on my dresser I made my way towards it. I didn't get far before stubbed my toe on something on my crowded floor. Cursing, I looked down to see what had been the cause of the nuisance. Sitting in front of my right foot was a golden trophy. Reminiscing a little bit, I picked up the trophy and examined the inscription on the base. Tournament Champion 10-14-11. I remembered that tournament; I had an amazing comeback in the last fight, completely taking everyone watching by surprise. That was how I first really met my best friend here. He congratulated me afterwards and we talked awhile and the rest is history. We had a lot of great times together. I wonder what he would do when I was gone. Would he get a new best friend? It wouldn't be hard; we all had this bond and he was charming enough. I decided he would be fine.

Recalling my original purpose, I snapped back to reality. Dropping the trophy onto the bed beside me, I continued on to my dresser. I picked up the glass and moved away, successfully running into my desk. My "desk" being no more than a wide table, managed to nearly completely capsize in that one hit. Cursing loudly at my clumsiness and sad excuse of furniture, I bent down to pick everything up. I'm not sure why I did. I don't think it really mattered. I mean, it wasn't like people would have cared if there was anything on my floor when they came looking for me. But I bent down to pick the papers and clothes and other things that had piled up over the past few months.

The first thing I picked up was a ring of keys; one for my room when I went out, another for my locker and another for the gym. On the ring was my collection of key chains I had attained over the years. One, a souvenir from the stadium from my first year, three to represent different lands that I had travelled to with my friends during vacation time, and another one of an anime drawing of myself that a fan had sent me a couple years ago. Looking at the date on the stadium one, I suddenly remembered how long I've been doing this. Certainly not long enough that I couldn't leave, but long enough to make me go "Wow." I would come here every September, and have a tournament once a week and have the rest of the week to ourselves. During vacation time, or by specific request, the portals were open and we could travel to different worlds. Usually everyone went back home for the two weeks, but sometimes you would go to visit a friend's.

The next thing I picked up was an iPod. It was pink and certainly not mine. I meant to return it to its rightful owner when I found it in the gym the other day, but never got around to it. I guess they would just have to get it when they find me in a couple of hours. I scrolled through a few songs, quite a few bringing up memories about when we would make up parody lyrics and think about music videos. I considered returning it, but I didn't want to face her, or the owner. For some reason thinking of them made me lean ever so slightly to reconsidering, but I quickly shook it off.

In the next ten minutes, I had sifted through the pile, finding the most miscellaneous things. Tickets to that musical the girls had dragged us guys to that ended up making us cry. The backstage passes I, a couple of guys and Sheik won from that competition for our favorite band. A T-shirt that everyone had signed from about three years ago. A list of my and Samus's favorite internet videos and websites. A couple video game cases, mostly the ones I had played three hundred times. An empty cola bottle inside an empty chip bag. Tickets to a couple movies that I had emptied out of my pockets. My lucky sports charm that I wore every time my team was playing. A drawing a friend had given me of my favorite TV show character. A mix tape and many other things. Not a lot of them were connected in any way, but they all connected with me. They all brought up memories of me and my friends that I had cherished in my heart for either a few years or a few days. Nearly everything had placed a forlorn smile on my lips and made me want to chuckle.

Standing up, I went back to my original intention and made for the bathroom.

I was stopped again. This time, by a picture. I picked it up when I entered the bathroom, it being on the wall next to the door. It was a picture taken only a few days ago. It was to be the cover of this year's Smash grand tournament flyer. It wasn't much. It was just all the Smashers sitting around in the rec room. We all had our armor or signature outfits on, it taking place right before a tournament. Smashers who had later matches had taken up their seats on the couch, loveseats and chairs in front of the TV in order to watch the matches. The others were either gathered in the back corner where the villains met, or grouped into small clusters around the room. What was amazing about this picture is that even though it was a little cramped because that many people weren't supposed to be in there all at once, you could see everybody's face. Not one face was either turned away, hidden or obscured. And every single one of them had amusement written all over it. I made it to the sink, still holding the picture. I looked down at the bottle and filled up the glass.

But I couldn't take them.

I stared at them and pictured in my head myself picking them up and taking an overdose that was sure to be lethal. I willed my arm to put the picture down and do so. It wouldn't move. The picture shook in my hands and I was suddenly unsure. I looked down at those white ovals that I had kept for so long in the intention of taking them. Now, they repulsed me.

What was I doing? How did I come to this? Sure, not everyone liked me and I got some hate mail and comments, but I had friends. I should count myself lucky. Most suicide victims didn't have the friends I had. They all loved me, and they would be there no matter what was said or who said it. They gave me such great times and amazing memories. I couldn't just leave them like this. I couldn't leave them at all. They made life worth living and I wouldn't live it any other way.

I had a great life, and I was just throwing it away, washing it down with some pills. I couldn't help but laugh at myself. I laughed at my reflection, big laughs that turned into gulping sobs. I collapsed on the floor and looked at the picture again. I laughed some more, wiping away the tears and calming down. I sat there a while, I'm not sure how long, but after that while, I picked myself up and replaced the pills in the medicine cabinet and took a swig from the glass before placing it on the side of the sink. I stuck the picture into the side of the medicine cabinet, to remind myself of my great friends if I ever was compelled to reach for the pills again. Smiling at my reflection, I left the bathroom and stared at the mess of my room; a mess of memories that I could never wash down with some pills.

Exiting the bedroom, I saw her jump. She must have thought that I was a ghost because she hesitantly placed her shaking hand on my chest before realizing that I was standing in front of her. Bursting into fresh tears of joy, she wrapped me in an embrace. My arms encircled her tightly, taking everything in. We didn't say anything, just stood there for a long time. We don't know how long we stood, but it was long. Afterwards, we walked down the hallway, back towards the rec room. The speakers played a rock song and as it ended I caught the words.

"I am not afraid to keep on living

I am not afraid to walk this world alone

Honey, if you stay I'll be forgiven

Nothing you could say can stop me going home."

Yeah.

This is actually my favorite story I wrote because it is very personal. This is my story. I had a living Hell of seventh grade, and it almost pushed me to the point where I would have taken the pills. I never touched them, but I considered it. It wasn't until a picture I realized that I had been taking my friends for granted. The title is a My Chemical Romance song that I always think of when I remember that time.

So, like always, please review. Tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, and I'm always open for suggestions, because ideas never really come easy for me with fanfictions. Thanks.

And for those of you who are wondering, Skyward Sword…amazing.

-redhazekj