He'd had enough.
He'd had enough of people shunning and avoiding him, because of his antics and seemingly harmless jokes.
He'd had enough of being called weak.
He'd had enough of being alone.
He'd had enough of life.

Francis loaded the gun and pointed it to his head.
He adjusted the handle to fit comfortably in his palm.
The feeling of the trigger on the blond's finger sent a chill of excitement up the his spine.
'This is it,' he thought to himself.
He pulled the trigger. He was dead before he hit the floor.
Just as the Frenchman's body met the ground, a specticaled boy, named Matthew, entered the room.
"Papa?" he whispered, trying to comprehend what had just unfolded before his eyes.
"Papa?" he began to scream repeatedly.
The young man raced to the body as he watched a dark pool begin to form around the older man's head.
Tears rushed out of the male's specticaled eyes as he cradled himself around the corpse.
Night after night, Matthew would wake up screaming from nightmares about the horror that he had witnessed.

Forever he would wonder what had caused his papa to resort to taking his own life.
The simple would always be,
He'd had enough.

A/N: Thanks to my beta, America's Belarus :)