Julius sat on the worn carpet of his room, a dim light casting a cold glow over his surroundings. At sixteen, he was already a master of ignoring the world, his life reduced to a monotonous cycle of working minimum wage jobs and empty thoughts. 

His black clothes hung loosely on his thin frame, as if they were matching his lack of purpose. His greasy black hair fell over his ears, framing a face that had long since lost its youthful vibrancy, and had adopted sunken eyes and cracked lips.

Nothing had been great, since his parents had passed away. The only calls he recieved these days were ones reminding him of the sad state of his life, for example...

The phone buzzed beside him on the floor, its harsh ring cutting through the usual silence. Julius stared at it for a moment, unblinking, he pondered on who was ringing, before realizing it could only be one organisation.

. Cashmore & Sons. Debt collectors. He could feel them on the other end of the line, their cruel professionalism leaking through the phone, they treated him like an object, they did not care for how his life went, as long as they recieved money to chip away at the mountain of debt his parents had left him. That was all that mattered. He let the phone ring a few more times before picking it up.

"Yeah?" His voice was a flat, emotionless drawl. If they were calling, it meant his last payment had probably failed. Now they would need more.

"Julius," the voice on the other end was smooth, calculated. "This is Mr. Cashmore from Cashmore & Sons Debt Collection. We've been trying to get in touch with you. Your parents' debt has been accumulating for quite some time now. You know the deal. Let's just say, your recent payments have been rather lackluster."

Julius let the words sink in, but they barely registered. The noise, the endless stream of bills, threats, and demands — it had all blurred together, it had all collapsed into a steaming pile of rubbish that stained his existence permanently. This was what his life had become, a body working with the purpose of paying off a debt he didn't even deserve.

"What's next? You sending some goons to break my legs? You want to take my liver too?" His tone was mockingly casual, his spiteful thoughts clear as day.

There was a pause. Mr. Cashmore's voice was still calm, but there was an edge of impatience creeping in.

"You're sixteen, Julius. We both know you don't have legs to break, we wouldn't want you filing a lawsuit, would we? But you do have other... assets. We've come to an arrangement and our law correspondent says it is perfect for the current situation."

Julius felt something cold settle in his chest, but he didn't move. "What, you want my kidneys or something?"

"Perfect, you're already there. You'll provide us with organs," Cashmore continued, as if reciting a well-worn script, "and we'll wipe the debt clean. You know the paperwork has already been signed. It's the only way. Furthermore, we're going to need you to work for us full time. We have a job as a brick-layer, we were thinking 1$ per 10 bricks, nice right? And all the money will go to paying off the debt."

"So I'll be a slave?"

"Uhh-. If you put it that way-."

Julius looked down at his hands, pale and trembling, his nails chipped and ragged. His mind was numb, but in the depths of his heart, hollowed thin by life's endless challenges, something stirred — a sick, twisted kind of relief. Of course this was it. Why wouldn't it be? They were truly taking everything from him, it was no longer a figurative feeling, they were going to scrape the organs out of his body...

He closed his eyes, as if he could block it all out. He'd never asked for this, but what did it matter? It was happening. He was nothing but a pawn in someone else's game. 

'Games...' Julius thought. When he was young and his parents were responsible he had played a few online games. But he had not touched a keyboard in years, after all his parent's death marked the start of the darkness in his life.

"Yeah, fine," he said, barely audible. "Come take whatever you want. Like I care these days."

"Wonderful it's great that you're on board with our-."

He ended the call before they could say anything else, the weight of the future squeezed at his organs, which were now all soon to be taken. He dropped the phone onto the floor and let his head fall back against the wall. The room felt smaller now. The walls, the floor — everything seemed to close in on him, suffocating him with a sense of inevitable doom.

'No, this room has always been small. It's just now I know my life is truly going to be miserable." Thought Julius.

The next day, Julius wandered the streets like a ghost, aimlessly drifting through the world. His black hoodie, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, had several rips that made it seem poor-quality. He hadn't bothered to eat or sleep, his thoughts all descended into madness as he thought about the organ procedure he would have to endure.

His legs carried him to the aquarium, though he couldn't remember deciding to go there. It seemed as good a place as any to wait for whatever was next. 

He pushed through the automatic doors with a lethargic motion, the cool air inside offering little comfort. The aquarium smelled of stagnant water and fish. The walls were lined with tanks, the fluorescent lights above casting a sickly glow over everything. It was like a night club, but instead of people there were hundreds of fishes.

He glanced over the first tank he saw.

The fish inside drifted lazily, unaware of the troubles of human life. He stood there for a while, staring into the depths of the tanks, watching the simple creatures move in slow, endless circles. 

When he saw the fish, he thought himself as one of them.

'If fish could speak, would they also try to steal each other's organs?' Julius' thoughts ended there. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned his head slowly to see a small group of men in dark suits approaching.

The same men who had been calling him for days, their faces professional but somehow smug, as if they were already claiming victory. Cashmore's team. The ones who would take everything from him, piece by piece. 

One of the men stepped forward, he had a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"There you are, Julius," the man said, his voice like velvet, but laced with something far more sinister. "We've been looking for you."

Julius didn't move, didn't acknowledge the intrusion. He simply stood there, staring at the water as if it might offer him some kind of salvation.

"You're not running, are you?" another man said, voice rising slightly. "You can't escape, Julius. We put a tracker in your neck. We know exactly where you are. You owe the organisation quite an impressive amount!"

Julius felt his hand instinctively touch the back of his neck, it felt itchy. He didn't care. None of it mattered anymore. His voice, when it came, was empty, devoid of hope.

"I'm not running," he muttered. "I'm just... waiting. I didn't even know you guys had a tracker on me..."

The men exchanged glances, but Julius didn't care. He didn't care about anything anymore. He sprinted off, ignoring the man's shouts from behind him.

This determination, it was like a fire long put out by his life's struggles, now in the moment where it mattered most it exploded. He ran like he had never ran before, exhaustion became a myth as he skirted around the aquariam, far more agile than the men had expected.

Without warning, he turned and walked towards the largest tank in the room, its glass surface reflecting the dim light. He reached out, gripping the edge of the tank with one hand, and with a fluid motion, climbed over the side. The tank was massive, almost like a swimming pool.

The chilling water embraced his skin, sending a shock through his body. But he didn't fight it. He didn't resist. He simply let himself sink, letting the weight of the water pull him down, down into the place where those men would not reach him.

The men rushed forward, shouting at him, but their words were muffled by the water as it rose around him. Julius didn't hear them. He didn't need to. He had already made his choice.

Screw them. Screw it all.

The water closed over his head, and for the first time in a long time, Julius felt like he could finally breathe.

The debt collectors stood at the edge of the tank, their faces pressed against the glass, but Julius was already gone. His body floated motionless in the water, a dark shadow in the depths. The ripples spread outwards, each one carrying away the last remnants of a life that had been broken long before this moment.

They pounded on the glass, but Julius didn't hear them. He was free now. He had spent his entire life paying his parent's debt off, from the moment they had died.

He had nothing to live for in this world, he could only pray that life did not end at death. He felt glad he had cut his life off before he became an organless pile of misery.

Julius' words ran back through his mind. "So I'll be a slave?"

'No.' He thought. Death was better than spending his life working for scum.

And somewhere, deep inside, that was enough.