Apollo had been through some things. Most of which wasn't the most pleasant. Looking at things logically, it wasn't even worth it to stay alive.
The suffering far outweighed anything else.
But...
When Apollo thought of how Ivy held onto him and brushed his hair, he couldn't do it. At the end of the day, it was a rather small thing. Compared to everything else he went to, that could hardly matter.
Yet, as small as it was, that was enough for Apollo to want to cling to life. It was enough for him to want to stay within all the hate.
But it was still hard.
Apollo slowly lowered the knife, but still looked out the window with the full moon. The glow seemed gentle, almost like it was reassuring him.
Eventually, he walked over to his mom's bedroom, with the knife behind him. Without hesitation, he opened it up then walked up to the bed, where his mom was sleeping.
He faintly called out.
"Mother?"
