With a rope tucked away inside his coat pocket , Jaska Wassik marched towards two dead had ever grown on them, not even a single slipped his dirt brown hair behind his pink ears and stepped between the two moribund bushes.

On the left was a long, narrow and unforgiving cliff that ran far beyond the sight of the eye. As he walked, Jaska heard the sound of wolves dragging their claws across the ground. He could see fragments of rock plummet and crash onto the sheet of ice that suffocated the ground. On the right was The Luukkaa Woods.

Jaska sang and watched his breath rise to touch the moon. It was a long walk to the well, and when he finally reached it, his face was burning and his ears were

Jaska stooped down and began to carve his name into a stone in the well. They said there was one stone there for every person who had granted their own death wish. Slowly he circled the well and called out the names of the ’s sky grey eyes scanned the hollow. Everything had been frozen by the January fumbled with the rope in his pocket and fashioned it into a hangman’s noose. The tiny hairs on his hands tingled as he threw one end of the rope over a rotting tree branch and knotted it well. Slipping and scrambling to the top of a rock layered with ice, he placed the rope around his neck. He felt tears spill down his face as he began to shake violently.

“Jaska pull it together. This is what you want, so stop being a big baby and get it over with. On three.” He promised himself, disgusted by is own tears.

“One.” The laughter, the heartless laughter. If you were me, what would you do?

“Two” FAGGET! LOSER! FREAK! COWARD! PANSY! YOU’RE A GOOD FOR NOTHING! WHY CAN’T YOU BE NORMAL! If you were me, what would you

“Three.” He whispered and the hanging jumped of the rock and began swaying back and forth like a wind chime on a blustery day. He felt like his airway was being blocked by a marshmallow. Each breath was shallower than the last, and each breath filled his lungs with the chilling winter air. The little gasps of air that Jaska was still able to breathe in were torture, taunting his lungs. The struggle ended as he began to twitch and the gurgling became non-existent. A terrible scream burst from the well, like someone had been stabbed. Jaska blacked out.

He felt something cold and wet on his burning face. Slowly he pulled himself out of the pile of snow and wiped himself clean with his coat sleeve. Jaska was standing in a fresh, vibrant pine forest, which had a sudden drop in its crept towards the edge and looked down.

There was a hollow, frozen by a hard winter courtesy of Finland. A tiny well was the centerpiece of this portrait. He spotted something dangling from a tree. It looked like a person. He or she had long, dirt brown hair. This person was clearly dead; the grey fingertips spelled that out. The body turned with great difficulty. The corpse’s face came into view and Jaska nearly passed out. That person dangling from the tree was him. He wouldn’t believe raised his hand and slapped himself across the face, and heard a loud smack echo from below. The corpse’s head had moved, as if it was the one that had been slapped. He was mortified. How could he be down there and up here at the same time? Jaska picked up a stone with his short fingers and aimed at the body. He threw the rock and hit the person squarely in the back of the head.

“OW!” cried Jaska as he felt a clear pain in the back of his own head. A warm, familiar laugh came from behind spun around with his hands in fists, ready to fight, or ready to fall.

“Easy buddy, I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” Said the voice with his hands in front of lowered his eyes narrowed and he raised his right eyebrow.

“Who are you and why are you here?” demanded Voice took a big step backward and tugged his hood over his face. A fog was starting to crawl out of the ground.

“It doesn’t matter who I was. What matters is that we examine your life,” said The Voice, shrugging his masked shoulders. With a wave of his aristocratic hands, The Voice took Jaska to an Espoo schoolyard, where a fight was taking Voice ushered Jaska to the front of a large, tightly knitted crowd.

“OOF!” yelled a little strawberry blonde haired boy as he was pushed to the muddy ground, his face smeared with little lines of blood.

“Get outta here Jaska! Just go, I’ll be o.k” promised the little blonde watched the seven year old version of himself bolt toward the school.

“Like a coward,” whispered the modern continued to watch as his best friend Kalevi battled the most sinister kid in leaped to his feet and spat right in the bully’s eye. An awful glare took over his gentle face.

“I’m not afraid of you. Don’t you ever hurt my friends again.” Kalevi growled menacingly and began to walk away. The sinister bully took a cheap shot and pushed the blonde boy to the ground. The crowd gasped, and some of the older kids snickered meanly. A fog ate up the scene.

Now they were at a backyard was a cool August day. The little blonde boy sat at a picnic table with his four best friends. The boys’ mother snuck up behind her son and placed an enormous birthday cake in front of him. A beaming smile illuminated his stood up and was about to blow out the lambent flames when he paused. He looked at his four best friends and said

“On three, we all blow this thing out.” The four stood up as Kalevi’s mother began to count.

“One” the boys’ toes wiggled at mock ten in their sandals.

“Two” the boys took in a deep breath as the modern Jaska walked toward the cake.

“Three!” in that moment, the candles died as Jaska helped blow them out for the second time. A mist cleared the scene away, like an eraser for a blackboard.

T hey were grown up now, sitting in a basement, passing around a bottle of whiskey with his best friends. Vaino did not hold his liquor well.

“Vaino, are you as drunk as a skunk?” laughed Kalevi. His friend swung his head in the direction of his friends’ voice.

“If you must know I’m as drunk as monkey” replied Vaino as he swayed in all directions. Everyone started laughing. Once again, The Voice waved his hands and now they were right back where they started.

The Voice sat down across from Jaska, who was crying a puddle of disclosure and self loathing into his hands. He splashed the puddle onto the ground and looked at The Voice.

“ Do you know why he killed himself?” he asked. The Voice said nothing.

“He couldn’t fight them anymore, and he showed the most bravado outta all of was always quick to protect his friends, especially me. His name means hero for God’s sake. And he was. He was a hero to the defeated. They hurt him so much.” Sniffled Jaska as he felt a new wave of tears seep down his face. He hated himself for it.

“It was like he was a piece of cloth, and every time he fought them, they tore him kept sewing himself back together. Until one day, there was nothing left to sew!” he shrieked and buried his face in his hands.

“I’m not brave like Kalevi; I’m not strong like Kalevi.” Jaska continued miserably.

“His head wasn’t the right shape in the pillow. When he shot himself, his skull shattered. He looked like he was still screaming in pain, even though he was…” Jaska stopped. Jaska leaned forward and pulled back The Voices hood. He had blonde hair and blue eyes.

“ Kalevi?” whispered Jaska.

“Six feet of dirt makes us all equal, but suicide is not the answer. You just empower them. Don’t let them get away with murder; don’t let them take your heart. You can do it, live. You have three amazing friends you can talk to. You need them as much as they need you. And what about your family? They love you to death, not in death. Tombstones don’t talk you know.”

Jaska sat there, taking it all in. He knew he felt horrible when Kalevi had killed himself, and so had everyone else. Why should he do that to his friends a second time? The friends who kept all his secrets, the friends who know everything about him, the friends that always had his back, the friends who consoled him when Kalevi died.

“And my family… why should I hurt them too.” Jaska whispered to Kalevi.

“Don’t make my mistake because I didn’t say anything doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. I had four friends who could have helped me. All I had to do was ask. And that’s all you have to do. Ask.” Jaska knew Kalevi was right. But there was just one thing that was bothering him still.

What do you mean you had four friends? Just cuz you’re dead doesn’t mean your not our friend.” Kalevi smiled joyfully. He placed a white hand on Jaska’s shoulder.

“You can do it .”

Jaska heard a crack from above and fell onto the cold ground, narrowly avoiding a blow from the branch. He sat up and removed the rope from around his neck and tossed it into the well. His name had been erased from the stone in the well. He turned his back on it and began the trek home.

He heard a loud sigh erupt from the well. A sigh of turned around and faced the well.

“Take it easy Kalevi.” He said and walked away.