Testing death.
The knife dug deep into Draq's stomach. He gasped, gritting his teeth as he stared at their eyes. They twisted the knife in deeper, making him yell in pain. Draq loosened his grip lightly on the person's neck. He tried to gain his feeling, but he was losing everything. Every sense, slowly fading.
"You don't belong here, Sanchez."
The person ripped the knife out, pushing him to the ground. Leaving him to die on the cold floor. Click. The door closes slowly, but draq didn't care. He wanted this, he wanted to die.
'Draq, you can't live forever. You know that.'
'Draq, you don't have a reason to live.'
'Draq, I don't think you can do this.'
"Veronica...tara..." draq whispered, his fingertips waving weakly an inch above the ground since his hands couldn't move any higher. "F-fu-" he choked, coughing up blood. His cheek slowly was covered by his blood and saliva. It was normal for him to be dead one day. Sometimes he did dream of being on a cold floor, surrounded by his own blood. He dreamt that he would be okay, laughing in the sun with anyone by his side. He dreamt of crying, feeling anything besides anger.
Death.
Happiness.
Sadness.
Anger.
Draq kept coughing, but he stopped eventually after taking everything in besides his thinking. He knew someone wouldn't come and be his lifesaver. He doesn't deserve it. He deserves to be there if he didn't really dread it. Draq knew death would pay him from around the corner.
"Thank you, I wanted you to end this."
"I am worthless."
He whispered, feeling himself fade.
Draq was quiet. He was okay and invisible. Just like he wanted from the start.