Ben was a quiet young man. Always kept himself to himself, his own thoughts, his own dreams, his own fantasies. He was always pleasant to people though, always a smile on his face.

But beneath all this, even unknown to him, a fire was burning. Life was taking its toll, but he didn't know it.

Then one day, a bright sunny April day, he woke up, and nothing made sense. His brain was falling apart, everything was a blur, his mind was spiralling downwards, life was out of focus. He couldn't breathe properely, his heart was racing, thoughts were fragmented and bizarre, normal functioning was impossible.

And then it happened, the explosion inside his head, and that was it, everything was just red and black and completely blurred. First he smashed the TV, then all the windows in the flat, then all the glasses and plates. He stabbed the cat, threw the dog out the window, cut off a toe and threw it at a passing paperboy.

Then he got in the car, drove 10 miles to some cliffs, and drove right off. The official verdict got it wrong though. They said "death by misadventure".

It's kind of funny though. Why? Because it wasn't his flat. Or his car.

Or his toe.

It was his cat and dog though. They used to follow him everywhere. They were tied by a piece of string.