attempt.

The sun was dipping low beneath the horizon, bleeding heavy streaks of bruised purple and molten gold across the sky. The reflection on the lake looked like a sheet of cracked glass, shimmering in the fading light. It was the kind of evening that usually made Shrimpo furious just by existing, but tonight, he was completely silent.

They sat on the damp grass beside him, their own melting vanilla cone held loosely in their hand. A steady drip of white cream ran down Shrimpo's light pink arm, but he didn't even yell or wipe it on his red shirt. He just stared at the rippling water.

"GardenView is stupid," Shrimpo said suddenly. His voice wasn't its usual piercing, obnoxious shriek. It was flat. Heavy. "Everything about it is stupid. But... I think I'm the stupidest part of it."

They paused, watching the profile of his face in the fading light. The golden hour hit the upward curve of his head, highlighting the permanent scowl that suddenly felt incredibly forced.

"Everyone else... they have things they do. They have a point," he muttered, his fingers tightening around the waffle cone until the delicate wafer cracked. "My point is just to be mad. I stay angry. I stay in character. If I'm yelling, then... then it means everything is normal, right? It means nothing terrible has changed. It means the world is exactly how it's supposed to be."

He let out a ragged, uncharacteristic sigh that sounded like it had been trapped in his chest for months.

"But I push everyone away. I hate them, so they hate me back. And I..." He stopped, his voice dropping to a raw, fractured whisper. "...I don't know how to fix it. I only know how to scream."

Before they could even process the sudden, crushing weight of his words, Shrimpo abruptly stood up. He let the ruined ice cream drop into the grass. He walked slowly toward the edge of the lake, the water lapping gently against his feet.

He stood there at the shoreline, the split uropods of his tail twitching once, twice, as he looked down into the dark, murky depths.

"Hey," he called out, not turning around. His voice sounded miles away. "Do you think Shrimpo belongs in the water?"

A sudden urge to laugh nervously hit their chest. They opened their mouth to tell him he was being completely ridiculous- he was a Toon, a shrimp abdomen, sure, but he didn't have gills. He couldn't actually breathe down there. They were about to tell him to stop being dramatic and come back to the blanket.

But before the words could leave their throat, Shrimpo didn't just dip a foot in. He threw himself forward, a heavy, silent plunge into the deep water.

The splash was small, the ripples expanding quickly outward in the golden light.

And then, he didn't surface.

The cold, terrifying reality crashed over them in an instant. This wasn't a joke. This wasn't a temper tantrum. Shrimpo wasn't trying to swim- he was letting himself sink. Their heart violently seized in their chest as they scrambled to their feet, kicking their shoes off, the realization screaming in their mind that he was trying to end it.