Guitar Pic

I was in my room and printing off guitar tablature for a song I was learning. I had logged onto the computer yesterday to download it, but for some reason, it just wouldn’t work! For some reason, my family always use to leave the TV on. They just left it on, even when they weren’t home, even when there wasn’t anything good on, even. Today it was softer than usual, thank god. Something about a natural disaster. Something about a war, explosions and fire. I went to play my guitar, albeit, pausing midway through plugging my guitar into the amp to grab my pic, and I held as tight in my mouth as my mother would me as a child. The pick was large, green, and was inked bearing a fluorescent skull, that seemingly spoke to you as if to say, “You want to be this badass!”. Caught in a moment of admiration, I found myself breathing heavily, and therefore, swallowing the guitar pic I, a few seconds ago, held tight in my mouth. Well that is to say, chocking, as I was likely already suffocated by the time I head swallowed it. And my parents would probably come in my room and panic, cry, call the ambulance, the police. Fuck, fuck, I don’t know. I had never seen somebody die before. I’d seen people talk about dying, and reenact dying, but I’d never died myself. So when it came around to it, I felt an odd hesitation, though I decided to paint myself red.