His name was Aden DeLuca. He knew not of what most would call reality. He was lost in an eternal sorrow, that couldn’t be broken. Aden wasn’t the kind they called harmonious. He didn’t sound well with others, the others that sounded well on their own. I believed he was a puzzle that took cheating to finish. A puzzle so frustrating that most would fail. Aden DeLuca had no emotion, no tear to call his own. I knew he had lost his path, but yet I didn’t have the sense to guide him back.

I silently wished he would ask me for help. But it seems as though the ones that really need it won’t ask. His eyes would be screaming for a change, but his features showed otherwise. If only I had known he loved me. If only I had made it there sooner. Death shouldn’t be the way out, especially not Aden. Not Aden, my Aden. That eternal sorrow that I saw coursing its way through his mind from day to day had finally broken itself. It freed Aden in the worst way possible. And the only way Aden saw it fit.