• Sunday morning was quiet as the sun rose above the horizon to greet the suburban neighborhood. The dew on each lawn was fresh as it was every morning. As the day goes by the dew slips away, and the light swallows the whole neighborhood. The sounds of small life are heard from colorful birds singing their tunes to the tinniest ant scurrying about. People were up and about getting ready for work, enjoying the morning paper, or sipping the freshly brewed coffee that runs through their taste buds.
    The neighborhood homes were made to each have some sort of different design, but in reality they all had the same bland layout. Each coat of paint that coated the homes were either beige or brown that's found in most suburban neighborhoods. The lawn was made to be the same and had been planned and organized to be there down to the last blade of grass. The windows were made to be thicker to give the illusion of safety to thieves. Nobody had any decorations out front, because they didn't want to stand out or be judged. The block looked the same as far as the eye could see, until the end of the neighborhood where the street ends.
    At the end of the street stood a dwelling that stood out so much that the other residents envied it. They never see the owner of the home until he leaves for work in the morning, but even then he appeared to be a blur as his luxury sedan sped by without even trying. Nobody knows what he does and nobody knows where he came from, but somehow every man wanted to be him and every woman wanted to be with him.
    The home was a two story mansion that was surrounded by an enormous front yard that took more than enough space to please anyone's eyes. The lawn had a sort of vitality that put everything else to shame. The fencing was made up of carefully manicured bushes and cleverly placed ivy to fill in the blanks. There were oaks and willows that were sparsely placed, but appeared as if they belonged there all along while the color filled flowers guarded the bottom of each tree. The walkway was edged with lush ferns and colorful snapdragons. It was all beautiful, but it's beauty diminished against the monument that was known as the mansion.
    The mansion was two stories tall and had a cloud white coat with a lavender trim. The porch was enormous as four tall pillars supported it as a marble white staircase accompanied it. It all let to a pair of large mahogany doors with stained glass window on each side. Beautiful concrete angel statues adorned the doorway one either side. Beyond the doors was a beautiful entry way with marble tiles that were so stylish that each one stood out from the tiles around it. Crystal chandeliers hung from the beautiful ceiling that somewhat resembled the beautiful murals of the Cystine Chapel. The walls were so unique as if an artist created a new masterpiece for each individual wall. Each room had beautiful black leather couches and clever looking coffee tables that had coasters sitting on them, but as great as this masterpiece in housing seemed for any house guest to lounge around in. It showed no signs of life at all, but not all was as still as it seemed.
    The smells and sounds of cooking could be heard and in the kitchen there was a sight to be seen. Someone did occupy the space of this monstrous abode and he stood right there in nothing, but his boxers looking at the meal he was preparing for his breakfast. He was cooking french toast and eggs to start his day. He stood tall and did not seem to be the average 'couch potato.' In fact he was quite lean and built.
    His face seemed to indicate that he was beginning to enter his thirties as the signs of aging had just begun to make their presence known. His sea green eyes stuck to the frying pan looking for anything that stood out other than the food that cooked in it. He had short, chocolate brown hair that was perfectly suited for him and not a single strand stood out of place. His face was perfectly proportioned and he had sharp features that made his presence known to the rest of the world. His facial hair was perfectly shaved down to the nub without missing a single hair. He seemed to have a glow to his skin and a tan as if he just came from a full day at the beach. He stood tall and erect and had a perfectly chiseled body that would put a magazine cover model to shame.
    As his morning slowly rolled on by his eyes kept darting from his food to his wristwatch, but he had no worries as he knew how to manage his time a long time ago so he would get to to work on time. A few minutes passed by and he was at his table eating his fresh breakfast and downing it with a glass of milk. As he ate, many thoughts ran through his head that had little to no significance at all. Except for one thought taht rang through his head over and over again. Would he have to deal with work today? He looked at his wristwatch again and stared at his half-finished breakfast that just sat there. He knew he wouldn't eat the rest so he just fed it to the garbage dispenser in the sink. He washed his plate and proceeded to dry his hands off with a paper towel. He looked at his wristwatch again and he had more time than expected so he went to a closet that was nearby and went inside.
    In a matter of half-a-minute he came back out with an enormous white case that had a red cross right in the center of it. At the bottom of it read "Advanced Trauma Kit." He opened the case up and took each and everything out individually and took inventory. Only a couple minutes passed by the time he put everything back in kit in the exact order that he had taken them out in except for a roll of gauze, antibacterial wipes, and some cotton balls. He grabbed a note from the confines of the kit and wrote down in black ink "running low, restock." He put the note somewhere, where he knew he would find it again and went back to the kitchen. He walked over to his cooking knives case and just stared at it while he went into the depths of his mind. His arm stretched towards the case as his fingers enclosed around the knife handle that had the word "Boredom" printed on its side. He looked at his wristwatch again and then took it off to set on the floor.
    As he pulled out the knife he noticed that it had a sharp looking edge to it which meant he hadn't used that one in a while. He walks to the middle of the kitchen and just stands there looking that the white tile and his reflection stare back at him. Then, he proceeded to hold the knife firmly and put it to an open wrist. He noticed that his wounds had barely healed, but he didn't pay much attention to it as he put pressure and slid the blade over the skin.
    Almost immediately the skin split open like a zipper as a rosy red substance spilled from his severed veins onto the floor like a river. If he was paying attention to it, he would have never already been in the middle of the other wrist as it's flow of blood became uninterrupted. The tiles on the floor witnessed as the blood began to pour onto them. He just sat on his knees as it all happened with the same thought on his mind. Does he have to deal with work today? He looked at his wristwatch on the floor.
    For the better part of a half-hour he felt nothing, but then he began to get tired and somewhat woozy as the drips on the floor turned into small pools of blood. He was getting dizzy and starting to feel fatigue. He thought today would be the day and he began to smile, but then he looked at his wristwatch and whispered to himself "F***." He got up and challenged himself to regain his balance as he stumbled to the sink and put on the hot water and put his wrists under the current. It burned his wounds horribly, but it was the first step to clean them out. Then he wobbles over a couple feet to the counter and rubs a burning antibacterial wipe on each wrist. It was a grueling process as he put cotton pads to clean out the remaining blood and puss that was starting to form. He then wrapped the gauze tightly around his wrists so he wouldn't bleed anymore and went back to the closet.
    Coming back out with a mop he prepares to mop up the floor so he wouldn't have to deal with his pools of blood later. All of this didn't take very long at all as only fifteen minutes go by. He then goes to his room and puts his on his work shirt and tie along with his slacks. He then walks to his key rack and picks out a pair of car keys. Going to his garage he scans the room for something. Once he spots it we walks up to his luxury sedan and opens the garage doors. He slowly rolls out and once the garage door begins to close. The luxury sedan speeds off taking him to work.