Pat

Pat couldnt describe it. He was perfectly happy. Good grade, lotsa kinda friends, even a handful of love interests. But he wasnt content. Something wasnt right. Pat wasnt sure if it was an empty or excess feeling but he didnt care. He wanted it gone. He tried everything. Banana bread. JSA Fall State. Precalc/Psych. Running. Old music. New music. Movies. Nothing worked.

He was so desperate that he even said "Desperate times call for desperate measures", and you know a movie has gotten really bad when somebody says that. He decided he would pick one bird and focus on it. Maybe he could block the other feeling away with a liking feeling which would serve as a firewall to the crappy feeling. He still wasnt sure which bird was prettiest or even which had the nicest song. Then he gave up and strangled all the birds except for that last one, which somehow got lodged in his throat. Then pat died.