Cruel Reality.

It’s ironic how life sometimes wants you dead.

Isn’t it supposed to let you live? Wont it grace you the joy of basking its entirety?

What’s it doing now? Why does it want me to pull the trigger on my head?

My head’s pounding. My heart is racing. The sweat is formed in my forehead, trickling down my cheeks.

I rose to my feet and walk towards it, gleaming under the lone light draped in the ceiling. It’s calling me. I approach it with trembling hands.

Bang. Here’s to the broken hopes.

Bang. Here’s to the shattered memories.

After the second shot, I feel myself slowly slipping away into oblivion. My mind’s fighting. But my heart’s rejecting.

Then everything stops.

Fade to black.