Ethan Lang had finally snapped.
He stood, in his room, entrenched in a fit of hysterical laughter. He gasped. He wheezed. He rolled on the floor and banged the palm of his hand on his mini-fridge. He screamed until his lungs hurt, and even some.
  Despite everything, he still wasn’t enough.
  That’s fucking hilarious!
  His marks had just come in. Everything he’d done to prepare, all the literal blood, sweat, and tears he’d poured into studying had all been for moot. Hell, he wrote his fucking name on the exam using a pen filled with ink made of his blood, for good luck, and to make sort of a political statement against his examiners. It was funny when he did it, but looking back on it, university had seemed to turn him into some sort of psychopath.
  At the back of his mind, he was worrying about if the people on his floor could hear him going insane, and this only made him laugh even harder. How absurd!
  “Oh man,” he chortled, wiping the corners of his eyes with his Rem from Re:Zero body pillow.
  75 was bolded in thick text on his screen, staring back at him. Despite everything!
  Michael’s marks were in the 90s. Armaan’s marks were in the 90s. Fucking Tony Wong had 90s. Even his female friends, Jaiden, Cynthia, Tristina, all had 90s. Everyone under the fucking sun had their marks in the 90s. But not Ethan, no.
  His parents clearly favoured his older sister over him. Lillian Chiang had dumped him for Tony Wong because his personality was “off-putting”. His friends were always meeting each other behind his back and making up lame excuses for not including him. He was recently ejected from the Val server for “inappropriate behaviour”, of which he’d been on the mod team for over three years. Just the other day, he’d stepped in a pile of geese shit, simultaneously slipping on it in shock, ruining both his favourite pair of shoes and bleeding all over his white pants.
  Why did everything suck so badly!
  He knew, he was being a bit drastic. 75 wasn’t a terrible mark in the grand scheme of things, but it was just another reminder of how he would never be enough, for anyone or anything, ever. Fucking society. If he wasn’t enough for society, society wasn’t enough for him. It was time to make his mark on the world, and disappear forever.
  Calming down a bit, he rested his hands over his keyboard, and straightened. Opened up Google Drive – a document, entitled, “Untitled document.”
  In the event that life becomes too painful for me, and I can no longer exist as I am, here are the list of things I want to do before I die:
 1. Spend a day responding with “your mom” to everyone no matter what they say
 2. Piss inside Tony Wong’s backpack
  [etc]
  Alright, let’s fucking do this.
  Ethan decided to give himself a week to accomplish everything on his bucket list. He knew if he didn’t he’d eventually end up procrastinating on dying. He set a reminder in his calendar for a week later, labeled “lol”.
  And so it was decided.
  He flopped back onto his bed. Man, was he going to miss the comfort of being wrapped up in his blankets. Actually, Lillian used to have the softest comforter in her dorm that he loved the feeling of.
  Lillian…
  Shit, everything was getting depressing again. He got back up with a grunt and returned back to his laptop. If he was going to be dead in a week, he didn’t care if his mom yelled at him for playing too many video games. He was going to play until his eyes bled.


  Beebeebeebeep beebeebeebeep beebeebeebeep
  Morning. Ethan rolled over on his bed and hit the stop button. He sat up drowsily, about to partake in his typical morning routine of starting the day drowning in dread and misery, but then he remembered.
  Ethan pulled on his clothes and blazed through breakfast. He had a big day ahead of him. He was just about to leave the house, when his mom peeked her head around the corner of the kitchen, from where she was defrosting a chicken for dinner.
  “Bye, Xiao-Yī! Have a good day at school!”
  “Your mom,” said Ethan, and before she could process what he said, he closed the door.
  Today was going to be a good day.
  There was a little spring in his step as he walked to school. For once, he didn’t have to worry about what he had to say in order to behave like a normal person. He ran over his plan in his head on the subway. It was simple really. There were only two words he vowed to say that day.
  He slid into his seat at the back of the class, where two of his friends were already waiting for him.
  “Hey dude, what’s up?” Michael said, glancing up from his laptop.
  “Your mom,” said Ethan.
  “Oh, haha, very funny,” Michael rolled his eyes. “What did you get on the test yesterday?”
  Ouch, not a moment too soon. “Your mom,” said Ethan.
  “Alright dude, whatever you say,” Michael exchanged a look with Armaan which said, I bet he failed again, loser. Ethan wanted to knock his stupid teeth out, but instead he smiled pleasantly back at them. Slightly unnerved, Michael returned back to hunching over his laptop.
  Armaan pressed forward. “Yeah, but what did you get? I got a 92. Not my best work, but acceptable I suppose,” he said with an air of superiority.
  Die, die, die, Ethan thought. “Your mom.”
  “Is that all you’re going to say today?” Armaan smirked. Yes, yes it was.
  “Hey guys!” Cynthia Gao took the last seat at the four-person table. “How’d you do on the test we got back yesterday, Ethan?”
  He really wished people would stop asking him about the test. He was this close to breaking down in the middle of the lecture hall in a fit of tears and laughter again. “Your mom,” said Ethan and Armaan simultaneously. Cynthia looked at them strangely.
  “His vocabulary seems to only consist of two words today,” explained Armaan. “Dude, how long are you going to keep this up for? It’s going to get old.”
  “Your mom,” said Ethan.
  Ethan kept it up for the rest of class, and eventually he was beginning to draw a crowd.
  “What’s your favourite food?” asked Armaan.
  “Your mom,” said Ethan.   “What do you get off to?” questioned Armaan.
  “Your mom,” said Ethan.
  “Who did you fuck last night in the bathroom of a Wendy’s?” sang Armaan.
  “Your mom,” said Ethan. The crowd snickered. On the way to his next class, a bunch of people surrounded him, asking him a billion similarly stupid questions. He was beginning to feel oddly popular, for the first time in his life. This continued into the next class, where people were gathering around his table.
  “Class!” Professor Pierce clapped her hands at the front of the room. “Please sit down and stop talking so we can get to today’s lecture. What’s going on over there?”
  Fifty pairs of eyes turned to look at Ethan. Why were they all looking at him? He glanced at Armaan, confused, who also had the same expectant look on his face. Oh. Ethan drew in a deep breath, and mentally prepared himself for what he was about to do.
  “Your mom.”
  A silent ripple of laughter made its way through the class. A few people clapped.
  “Excuse me?” Professor Pierce frowned.
  “Your mom,” said Ethan.
  Professor Pierce jutted her chin backwards, folding her neck into about twenty different layers. Her monobrow furrowed. She walked up the steps towards Ethan’s table, each click of her leopard-print high heels indicating Ethan’s impending doom. The class went quiet.
  “Your name is?” she pointed one beady eye straight into his.
  “Your mom,” Ethan said. Michael choked.
  She pointed both her eyes into his. Professor Pierce really looked like a rat, Ethan noticed. “Your real name, please.”
  “Your mom,” Ethan said. Cynthia let out a soft whimper.
  The adam’s apple at her throat bobbed viciously.
  “One more chance. What is your name, young man?”
  “Your mom,” Ethan said. He thought she would explode, right there, on the spot.
  She swiveled around, pointing a knobby finger at Armaan. “You. Tell me the name of your friend over here.”
  Armaan mumbled something under his breath.
  “Louder, please.”
  It was so silent, you could hear a pin drop. Everyone in the class was holding their breath, as if they were watching a car crash they couldn’t tear their eyes away from.
  “His name is Ethan Lang,” Armaan said louder. Ethan cringed internally.
  “Mr. Lang,” Professor Pierce said severely, throatily, “is this an acceptable sort of behavior for a university student, an adult such as yourself?”
  “Your mom,” said Ethan. Oh god, he was going to hell for this.
  Professor Pierce’s face purpled in colour. “Do you find this sort of behavior amusing?”
  “Your mom,” said Ethan.
  “Do you realize that I can, and will, be reporting you to administration, young man?” She was trembling now in a fit of rage. Her eyeball looked like it was threatening to burst out of its socket. It was actually kind of scary, but some sadistic part of Ethan found this all to be very funny.
  “Your mom,” said Ethan.
  “Get out of my class,” she roared, and he scurried out. His heart pounded as he ran down the steps. He can’t believe he had done something like that; there was truly no turning back now. It wasn’t until Ethan was out of the class, when he realized that he had forgotten his backpack inside. Ordinarily he wouldn’t have given a shit since he was going to die in a week anyways, but his laptop was in there, plus all his games.
  He sat on a bench right outside class, the adrenaline in his veins pulsing through his reeling mind. Ethan contemplated sneaking back into the class to retrieve his backpack, but he decided he wouldn’t be able to carry out the rest of his bucket list if he was dead.
  “Dude, that was incredible!”
  His classmates were coming out of the lecture in groups.
  “I don’t know how you can be so brave,” a girl marveled.
  “You’re so fucked man,” someone said.
  Some people were patting him on the back. Others were giving him fistbumps. There were a couple people who gave him disapproving glances when they were exiting lecture hall, but that was fine with him. Was achieving popularity always this easy?
  Tony Wong came up to him in tears, handing him his backpack. “You’re legendary dude,” he said through misted eyes, wrapping his arms around Ethan in an off-balance sort of hug. Ethan awkwardly patted him back.
  “Hey! Ethan!” a familiar voice called.
  Ethan detached himself from Tony Wong, to look at the person who was talking to him. It was Lillian. For some reason, she looked angry. She grabbed his arm, and pulled him through the crowd.
  “Sorry, excuse me, I need a private moment with Mr. Your Mom over here,” she muttered.
  They reached a quieter part of the building, and she finally released his arm. His skin burned where she had grabbed him.
  “What the fuck was that all about?” She asked heatedly.
  Ethan didn’t know what she was talking about. Was she referring to the stunts he had pulled today? Why did that involve her? “Your mom.”
  Lillian narrowed her eyes. “This better not be another ploy to get my attention again. We’re over. We were so over three months ago. I’ve moved on, and you should too.”
  So that’s what this was about? Not everything is about you, Lillian, is what he wanted to say. He wanted to make her understand what he’d been through these past few months, hell, his entire fucking life. One disaster after another.
  At any rate, Ethan didn’t have the energy to deal with this right now. The last thing he needed today was to be dealing with his ex-girlfriend. And thanks to his list, he really didn’t have to.
  “Your. Mom.” He heavily emphasized the break in between the two words to indicate his displeasure.
  “Oh my god, you’re so fucking annoying! When will you ever grow up?” Lillian seethed hotly. “Can’t we ever have a civil discussion like mature adults? What’s wrong with you?”   “Your mom,” said Ethan.
  “Stop it!” Lillian cried. She grabbed his shoulders. “Stop with the your mom’s! Just talk to me like a normal person!”
  “Your mom.” Ethan had to admit, he was enjoying this a bit, too.
  All of a sudden, Lillian got very quiet. She released his shoulders. “Ethan, what happened to us? I thought we could have stayed friends, after all that happened. But we can’t even be in the same room as each other now.”
  He stood there with his mouth open, a little scared at how her entire demeanor had done a 360. She was crying now.
  “I have something to tell you,” she peered up at him. Shit, how was she still so cute? “Tony is… he’s a great guy, but he’s so, how do I put this… bland.”
  Huh?
  “Being with him just reminds me of you. All the fun that we had together. And seeing you in class today standing up to the professor like that, shows me that you’ve really grown as a person. In terms of courage.”
  Huh???
  “So…” she whispered. “If you tell me that you want to get back together, I want to as well. Tell me that you still love me, Ethan.”
  His brain spun. What was going on?
  This was something that he had fantasized about in his dreams. But never did he actually think it would actually ever happen. Did he want to get back together with Lillian? He thought about saying the words, I still love you. I’m still in love with you.
  Then, he decided.
  Ethan inhaled shakily. “Your mom.”
  Lillian’s face morphed into one of outrage. “Fine, be that way!” She shrieked. “I was… I was just testing you, anyways! As if I’d ever go back to a loser like you.”
  She turned on her heel, and stormed down the hallway, out of sight.
  He exhaled, leaning back against the wall. Then smiled.

  “As I understand, Mr. Lang, you caused quite the disruption in Professor Pierce’s class.”
  Ethan was sitting in the academic registrar’s office. Professor Pierce truly had wasted no time turning him in, unfortunately. He really, really didn’t want to deal with this today. He wasn’t even sure what had made him go to the appointment in the first place when he could have just skipped. Habit, he supposed, out of always wanting to be the good kid. Class today was a very rare exception and perhaps the scariest thing he had ever done in his life.
  He nodded in agreement. “Your mom.”
  The registrar sighed and took off his glasses to rub his temple. He opened the drawer on his desk, and took out a bottle of Advil, shaking out two pills. Ethan watched as he swallowed them down with a long, long drink of water. Pierce must have told him the precise details of class today.
  “I’m suspending you for a week,” the registrar said finally. “You do understand the consequences of your actions, do you? And that you’ve learned from the mistakes made today?”
  “Your mom.”
  “Okay good, you’re free to go,” the registrar waved him out of his office.
  Ethan strolled down the street, humming to himself, your mom, your mom, your mooom, feeling like a new man. He couldn’t believe he’d survived the day. If only life could be like this all the time, then he wouldn’t have to jump.
  He entered a Tim Hortons, and ordered a coffee. “Your mom,” he explained, pointing to the item on the menu.
  “Right on dude,” said the cashier, a hippie looking guy with stringy blond hair. The lady beside him waiting for her latte gave them an odd look.
  As he sat at a table, he scrolled through reddit on his phone. Someone had posted about him in the university subreddit:
  kid from my math class wildin today
  you all saw that right??? what was that guy high on, because I want some lmfao.
  He glanced up at the time on his phone. Five thirty. He wasn’t going to go home today until twelve, so he didn’t have to deal with his mom until he could speak normally again. He decided he was going to scope out suitable locations for the jump instead.

  It was nighttime now, and the black road was covered in a layer of sheen, reflecting the streetlamps and cars in bursts of bright yellow and red. Rain splattered so violently off the asphalt that it almost seemed to bounce off the ground.
  Ethan stood on the roof of a fifty story office building, letting the wind and rain run through his hair. The city was strangely beautiful today, and the view was absolutely killer. Yes, this would be a suitable location…
  His heart thumped in his chest with a pang. At the end of it all, did he still want to even follow through anymore? The day had been so unbelievably great, in the weirdest way possible. Had he known that he could feel so happy being free, he would have done this long ago. He closed his eyes, and tried to imagine himself jumping, falling, fallen, broken on the ground below.
  Then his eyes flew open. What was he thinking? He didn’t want to die.
  He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die. The thought pounded through his head loudly and surely as the sound of the rain pattering on the roof. He didn’t want to die!
  He was going to reevaluate his life choices. Ethan was going to switch to a different program, one that actually spoke to him. Fuck medsci. He was free.
  Ethan thought back to how much he’d fucked up the day, and shrugged it off. Nothing he said was entirely unrecoverable. People forgot things very quickly. And the list? He decided that he still wanted to do most things on it anyways, especially pissing in Tony Wong’s backpack. Just for funzies…
  As the clock struck midnight, if you were close enough and listened carefully, you could hear the sound of Ethan Lang, arms outstretched, standing on the roof of an office building, hollering at the top of his lungs:
  “YOUR MOOOOOMMMM!!!”