He sat on the edge of his room, the nazi symbol written all over his room walls and floor with his own blood. He crouched in a corner as blood spilt from his arms and nose. His eyes were crosses and his whole body shakes in fear. He sweats as he thinks about the deaths he has made. He thinks about his father. He thinks about Male Ukraine, He thinks about Finland, He thinks about America. He could stand it much longer. No matter how many times he tries, he can never kill himself. He can't die. Its like repeating a bad day, over and over. He just sits there, weak from all of the blood loss. He can't stand it! He finally faints from all of the blood discarded from his body. If only he could faint and never wake up. He wish this was all over. He wishes for a change.