Based off the song above. Play at the beginning of the story, after the squiggly things. Just need to write about my depression through a story. And yes, this is one of my OC's. So this has a bit more emotion, here's a description of the character in topic:

Cody: Cody is a fox boy, and he is said to be emo, because of his hairstyle, the color clothes he wears, and the way he acts. In reality, Cody is just broken. He was abused by his parents while his twin, Jason, was always being used as the 'perfect example.' He was forbidden to talk about what happened at home, resulting in Cody becoming mute from first grade until the summer after eighth grade, when he met Skylar. They formed a really close relationship until one day, Cody went to him and Skylar's meeting spot to find her bloody and lifeless body.

He fell into deep sadness, and that, combined with his parents telling him he isn't good enough and that he should die, caused him to become depressed, secluding himself from any interaction. He cuts and has tried to kill himself, another fault in his parent's eyes. Cody keeps torturing his body, pushing himself closer and closer to death, until finally, after nine years of pain, he's free.

Oh, and don't read if you don't like violence...

Also, none of the events described here are related to anything happening in Phoenix High.

~~~~~~

I press the knife harder into my wrist, welcoming the waves of pain sweeping over me. Mother and Father don't care. No one does. It's just me, alone in my mind with the demons. Skylar is long gone. 'Not something to be dwelled on' according to Mother and Father. I take the knife out of my wrist and look at the rope I have tied on my fan. "Soon," I whisper.

The voices in my head grow louder. 'Now' 'It's time' 'Blood' 'Pain' 'Do it' 'They won't care' 'You need it'. I close my eyes, and when I open them, the voices are quiet. I switch wrists, carving into the flesh. The blood trickles down my wrist, landing on the carpet already stained so much. My wrists are burning, the pain so sweet.

'Yes.'

'Pain.'

'More.'

The knife falls from my hand, landing on the carpet with a muffled thump. I walk to the chair that I put under the rope and stand on it, slipping the noose around my neck. The moon is shining brightly tonight, illuminating the emptiness of my room. A mattress pushed in one corner and a worn, stained oak desk opposite of it.

A meaningless room. The only purpose for it was so that Mother and Father wouldn't have to look at me unless they were beating me. I look at a dark stain in the middle of my room, a long dried patch of blood from the summer of sixth grade. The silvery light of the moon makes the color whiter, lighting up the darker, fresher blood stains in it.

'Remember that?'

'You are worthless.'

'Your life means less than nothing.'

'You're just a waste of everything.'

'What's your purpose in life?'

'It's nonexistent.'

'Just'.

'Die.'

I look up at the moon, tightening the noose, ready to push the chair away, ending my meaningless life forever.

I'm sorry.

For not being who you wanted.

For not being smart.

For not being perfect.

For not being handsome.

For existing.

For everything that I did to you.

I close my eyes then open them again, taking one last breath, then push the chair away, jerking down, the rope cutting off my air flow.

I don't struggle. Just hang there. Letting this happen. The room grows darker and darker and darker until I can barely see. A figure enters my room and comes over to me, shock on their face.

"Cody?"

Jason...

"Cody?!"

I'm sorry.

"Cody please, this isn't funny!"

Forgive me, brother.

"Cody... say something..."

I love you...

"Say something..."

I'll never forget you...

I love you Jason...

I'll always love you...