The buzzing sound of flying insects hovered around him. His next destination was home, he would prepare something poisonous and die by eating.

The young man had been waiting on the express road expecting a moving car to smash him, but there was none passing by.

Secondly, he thought of drowning but was afraid of water. Thirdly, he thought of hanging himself, but he found it that he would struggle beyond what's necessary and scream and that could attract neighbors.

He had to head home first and think of a possible and easy way to die. Coming home made his heart pounding.

He lived in a place like looked like the slum, and he disliked the environment. However, every neighbor lived as one in this place.

They didn't mind if they ran out of money, they stayed united and helped each other out.

He opened his door and cussed at the building, the walls were already cracking, and the paints were falling off.

The stench of poverty could also be perceived in this house. He dragged his legs towards the bedroom, kicking against anything that was on his pathway.

His wet body drip down water causing his irritations, his body also began to itch, and he was sneezing wildly.

“Curse today” he raged, sniffed, as he sat on the harden bed that could cause one to have nightmares.

He was cold and shivering gravely, yet didn't pay attention to that. All he was concerned about was how to die and leave the earth.

It was over for him, nothing was ever going to be the same. However, suicide wasn't the best option, as life always comes with its challenge.

While he tried pulling off his wet shoes, his eyes met a letter on the bed. The envelope it was inside had the color of gold, and it glitters.

This young man wasn't expecting a letter, neither did his child write him one because she disliked writing letters.

He subconsciously picked the letter and it suddenly sparked. The young man shook his head and flip the strange letter away. Currently, he must be hallucinating and seeing things differently.

His hands reached for his pocket located behind his pant, and then grabbed a spoon. He had forgotten to dispose it. He pulled it out and scrutinized it. Perhaps, he would use it to eat his last supper before dying, besides it was a gift.

An arch was curved by his brows, he knew what he was intending to do was childish, but he just wanted to give a try. That old woman looked far too serious about the petty spoon, and so he was tempted to make a wish.

“I wish I had powers, great and famous, that I could change time! I would have everyone worship him… I hate this life, I hate this world!!! Likewise, I wish to be somewhere magical where I can be value” He roared and glared at the spoon in his hand.

His earnest wish of all was to have his family by his side again, wealthy of course, however it was inscripted in his heart.

A sad scoff left his lips. How foolish he was to believe that a stupid spoon could work wonders. He threw the spoon away, and it rolled and settled close to his cupboard.

Sadness wouldn't prevent him from eating, and if he were to eat, he would poison himself and use that forsaken spoon to eat.

The young man yawn as sleep was lurking in, but how could he sleep on such a day?

“Enough of thinking Brian, get the poison” he told himself while jolting from the bed like one who was controlled by a remote. Paced towards the kitchen, stepped on the mysterious letter and hurried back to the room.

He had a leftover poison which he used to kill rodents that troubled his house. He prepared noddles as that was the easiest thing to prepare and the only food he had.

Once he was done, he sprinkled the poison on the plate, picked the abandoned spoon and intended to eat but then ended up crying.

The smell from the poison made his stomach twitch, dying wasn't easy, but he craved for it. The spoon in his hand began to vibrate, but he didn't pay attention to that.

Rather, he left it in the bowl of noodles and weep like a child. He realized he couldn't kill himself. His imaginations of his daughter filled his head, and it made him sober the more.

“You can do this, fight your way out” he encouraged himself and gave up committing suicide. He could come out of these pains if he stays strong, but he had no heart to stay strong.

A knock was heard on his door, and it interrupted his sad moments. Brian didn't want any disturbance, and so didn't reply, but he had forgotten to lock the door and so whosoever was knocking entered.

Recently, he was beginning to forget things and that was one part of him that he needed to work on.

“Brian, it's I, peter” the person reported venturing for the bedroom.

He sighed and quickly tried to hide the noddle; however, it ended up pouring on the ground.

Everything was frustrating, he couldn't even do things, probably. He exhaled deeply and stared at the wasted noddles he had stressed himself to prepare.

He couldn't clean up the mess he created, and so the guest had to meet him in a pathetic manner.

“When did you arrive?” Peter request gazing at his friend and neighbor, who was weak to the bone.

He knew Brian wouldn't reply and just went straight to the point. Peter sympathized with the loner man, he also encouraged him, and then dropped a basket that had dumplings and oatmeal inside and bacons.

Peter tried his best to keep his friend company, but it wasn't working. His kind gestures were greeted by silence from the divorced man.

Brian was dying inside slowly with grieve and regret. However, he was relieved someone checked up on him and was grateful for that.

This friend of his helped cleaned up the mess created, and then picked the sliver spoon and handed it to Brian, just incase he needed to eat with it.

This man was a true friend who always stood by Brian's side despite this man's cold attitude to him at times.

Peter helped this friend of his change into something drier and check his temperature. It was high and he needed to get treated or else might catch a fever.

He knew Brian wouldn't want to eat and so forced him to eat. The devastated Brian only took three spoons of oatmeal and insisted that he was full.

Meanwhile, he had forgotten that the spoon still had poison stain on it. His friend noted that he couldn't force Brian to eat more and needed to give his friend time to be alone.

He resigned from trying to make his friend put on a bright face and decided to leave to get some drugs for his devastated friend.

“I would check back on you later” peter assured, and took his leave.

Brian followed him outside and bide his farewells while locking his door. Just immediately he took a step away from the door, he began to feel terrible pains around his stomach.

He dropped limply on his knees and winced in pains that he began to scream. Its pain made him squirm and groan as he wrapped his arms around his stomach.

Meanwhile, peter haven't gone far, when he heard a scream coming out from Brian's room.

He hurried back to his friend's apartment and banged on the door, but it was locked from inside. The troubled friend had to sought a way to break down the door.

Before peter could break the door down, it was almost too late, as he found Brian unconscious and had blood drooling from his nose.

The silver which had been abandoned in his room glitters and at the bottom of its handle, the number 30 was suddenly inscripted.