He woke up, depressed, again. Felt tired, tired, tired. Could not stop thinking how to end this. Killing himself was one of the options, just dying, but how do you do that, just dying. You cannot just ask yourself to stop living, your heart stop beating. He felt most of the time trapped in his body that was at least 30 or more years away from death. Too healthy. Pushing his head under the cushion, trying to get back to sleep did not work. And falling asleep did not help him neither, the dreams were coming every night, he could not escape them. So he was haunted in his sleep by dreams and haunted by awful thoughts while he was awake. Death would be the only way out he thought. But, he was a coward, so killing himself would not do. He simply did not had the guts for it, he hated himself for being such a pussy, so weak, but he was sure about that. In his mind he had invented all kind of ways to kill him self without pulling the trigger so to say figuratively speaking. Not that he thought of using a gun, no, not his style, and than he had to go through all the trouble of getting one and then what if he did not dare to use it, what then. No gun, no. So, how to do it in such a way that it will give the police a hard time figuring out how it was done, making sure that it would not fail and that friends and family will left behind puzzled. One thing was clear to him: he wanted to stop this.