The boy walks into his garage, filled with glass beakers and flasks, overflowing with mysterious liquids. A dark figure appeared from behind the giant laboratory and hauled a big stack of blue sky, or meth, and dropped it right next to the boy's feet. But the boy's expression turned sour. It’s too much Heisenburg, he says. Don’t you want the money, Heisenburg asks. Despite the offer of cold hard cash, the boy starts to walk away. But as the boy kept walking, Heisenburg kept spamming offers, trying to convince the boy to stay. 

The boy, however, thought differently. His friends, his family, and even his girlfriend, all kicked the bucket, whether it be overdosing or getting shot, it was all connected to the business. 

The boy, in tears, went outside, the crisp morning breeze hitting him instantly. The boy walked to the nearby bench, right next to the garage. He fumbled with the gun in his pocket, something that he always carried around due to the dangers of his job. But this time, the boy wasn’t using it to protect himself. He faced himself toward the beautiful sunrise, as it would be his last. He put the gun to his head, and in one shot, he joined his loved ones in the sky above.