Screw.

Screw it, I've got writer's block again...

Oh God...(1)

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Writer's block....

Thanks For Coming To The Show.

He held the white tablets in his hand and he squeezed tight. His pants were down, he had fallen off the toilet seat in a desperate attempt to get some toilet paper...

"How pathetic." he grumbled as he downed the pills with a sip of tap water. He groaned.

He looked at the label on the packed, he went down to the ingredients- 'Paracetamol' it read. He didn't bother reading the amount of grams. It didn't matter, he just needed some in his system.

He led himself out of the bathroom and collapsed into a tired heap on his bed. He picked up his phone and looked at the message. He sighed, he knew what he had to do. His birthday was tomorrow, he needed to tell her before the day came. It was time to change into his future.

He cried, it was his decision but he cried.

He wouldn't see his friends again, his family again.

He wouldn't see himself again.

After January it would be the end.

He allowed himself one more thought, one more monologue before he would sleep.

He whispered solemnly, but contently:

"Love you all, thanks for coming to the show. Sorry it's time to go. I need to do it for the greater good of humanity, I need to go do things, discover more, save anyone and everyone. It's because I love you all that I'm going to never see you again. At least you'll have The Scientist, so long Player, so long."

He looked sadly at his stuffed animals and wiped his tears.

"Paul, John... Goodnight."