"I can't do it anymore. . . I can't do it anymore I can't do it anymore." The little kid, Richard, said as his mantra, for the tenth time. His mind was wandering from last night. . . He cut himself. . . he moved the razor over his arms and legs, and feet, even his shoulders. . . and cheeks. . . he was curled up in a ball and crying. . . I can't do it anymore. . . In his right hand was a bottle, and in the other hand was an open hand. . . moving over to his right hand after he was done sobbing and had just opened up the medicine. . . there must have been thirty pills. Sleeping pills. . . Just then, a breeze came in through the window. . . 

"NO!" He heard a stranger's voice as he mysteriously was whisked away. . . he looked around. . . "A forest. . . ? I'm not in fucking Terrabithia am I?" He woke up with a start, this time glancing around, noticing he wasn't in his house, wasn't alone. In fact, he was surrounded by students in class, with his head once buried on the desk. Most of these students were staring at the instructor like they were supposed to, and learning. . . it was a good thing he was plenty ahead in class.