The carpet is dark and damp. I watch it drip and soak through the fibers and mingle with the dirt and dust. It begins to pool as the edges of the world begin to cloud around me. I can see nothing but my hand and the darkness on the carpet behind it. It's all mine - my doing - because my mind can't handle it anymore and the problems are closing in on me and my only escape is to relieve the pressure within my veins.
The world seems to get smaller and smaller and all that's left is the stinging in my arm. So I lay down on the dark, damp carpet to keep myself just that little bit warmer as I watch the world shrink around me and finally disappear altogether.
