Intro. Steven left his house without telling anyone. He took the car and drove without a clear destination, letting the route decide for him. The sky was tinged with pink and orange hues, but to Steven everything felt gray. His friends thought he just needed air. "He's going to travel a little, to clear his head," they said. That was what he let us believe. The truth was different. Steven was 19 years old, sensitive as a good Cancer, and felt everything too strongly. He loved intensely, suffered in silence and kept emotions that no one saw. Being who he was—a gay boy in an environment that never quite accepted him—had tired him more than he admitted. As he drove, he squeezed the steering wheel tightly. He wasn't escaping the world. He was escaping from himself. Every kilometer took him away from the expectations, the looks, the words that hurt more than the blows. He smiled in front of the others, but inside he carried a constant storm. He didn't want to die. I wanted the pain to go away