If I was an atheist I would have killed myself in May probably. Would have written a note and opened the window, leaned backwards so my head hits the courtyard floor, and fall back several steps to my death; my skull exploding with fragments flying everywhere like shrapnel and blood splattering everywhere, and my brain spilling out and dreaming the pavement, my skull now a sort of bowl or totally split open down the town, my spine bent and limbs sprawled out. My parents would come out and see what their pathetic excuse for a human being of a son had become and bawl their eyes out but the rest of the world would be relieved. I’d be fucking dead like an animal, what was left of my humanity entirely wiped away, turned into trash to be put in the garbage fan and dumped onto a heap in a landfill to rot for eternity. And then I’d wake up alone and in a dark place and God would scorn me, angels would grab me and toss me into a pit of fire where devils in every shape and size would grab at me; torturing me in every way possible, infinite and eternal pain. It wouldn’t be another year of me messing around yelling at liberals or playing video games or being with and loving my family. Life wouldn’t be funny and cute anymore and it never would be ever again. I’d be just another stupid teenager condemned to Hell. I’d be screaming and crying and God would show my father that, he would weep at first but than God would give him “divine understanding” and he’d simply scoff and move on, leaving me to suffer forever. He himself said he believes people who kill themselves go to Hell. Regardless I’m probably still going there anyway. God knows all our fates and this it has already been determined long before we were born.