When we were young we stayed close to home. In the evening we would meet in the middle of a park and talk about suicide. We never did it. It was just talk. One guy, he’d say something like if he was going to do it right, he would take a hot bath and then slip in while slitting his wrist.
It was summer. The stars were bright. In the morning we had exams.
We should have really been studying, but we liked this talk.
We did it often and would often promise that if one went through with it the others had to follow. It was a pact. A suicide pact and that’s all it was.
Then we’d speak about girls and about getting our dicks sucked by the chubby chick in fourth period. If looks could kill, one guy would say.
We promised that we would never let anyone in on our pact. It was ours and we felt we could say anything because we had already promised so much.
