It all started a couple of days ago. I grabbed my gun, newly bought, and headed down to my basement. It would finally be over. This would be my last try, and the one that would actually work. I was going to commit suicide—I chose my basement because it was comfortable to me. Even though it was my own house I lived in, I mostly inhabited the basement. There, I was free from responsibility, the passage of time, sunrise and sunset... All things a twenty-three year old should worry about. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Then I heard it. I call it a household name.