Bubbles.

hot water flushed into the plastic tub.
ricocheting off of the bottom and splurting against the sides.
whilst the tub filled, a male of around 17 years gathered his necessities.

Razor
Cell Phone
Towel
Bubble Bath

he put them all on the sill beside the bathtub.

he took a pair of scissors from the drawer beneath the sink and cut away a long 1-inch strip from the towel,
putting the strip on the sill and leaving the rest on the floor.
he stripped slowly,
pulling off each garment carefully before throwing it into the corner of the room opposite the bathtub.

once completely naked, he checked the water.
steam was billowing from the bathtub,
hot water filling up three quarters of the tub.
he turned off the hot faucet.

he dipped his big toe in and recoiled instantly, finding the water far too hot.
he turned on the cold faucet.
after about 30 seconds or so, he dipped his toe into the water again.
still too hot.
another 30 seconds.
another dip.
and perfect.

he poured in a sizable amount of bubble bath and watched bubbles pop up all over the water's surface.

his body seemed to slip into the water.

he submerged himself beneath the surface,
letting the water curl into every crevice of his cracked being.
1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9...10
upon rising, a mound of bubbles swarmed into his mouth.
he spluttered.

he never took baths without bubbles.
they were pretty white pearls in the water.
the bubbles covered him up.
shielding the world, and himself, from what he hated.

he lifted the strip of towel from the sill and wrapped it around his mouth,
tying it at the back of his head.
gagging him.

next he eyed his razor.
a fine metal blade.
he eyed it curiously, as if it were capable of actually causing pain.

he let his arm, razor in hand, fall into the water.

he sank deeper below the water, until water trickled up his nostrils.
he closed his eyes and bit the rag in his mouth tightly.
he drew the blade across his wrist.

he arched his head, his eyes clasped tightly together,
a muffled grunt broke from his mouth.
he dared only open his eye a fraction.
the bubbles were turning crimson.
he groaned.

the second cut wasn't as bad.
the third even better.
they all blended together after a while.
before long he was sinking deeper in to the carmine ocean.
unaware of time, emotion, pain, anything.
and why should he have been.
he was alone in life and he deserved loneliness in death.

he sank beneath the surface for the last time,
his body invisible and immovable.
laid to rest.

he was normal, they would say.
he was a good kid, they would say.

nevertheless,
he was in that bathtub until the last bubble popped.