A noose?
Where would I hang it?
A gun?
They're all locked up.
A knife?
Bleeding out doesn't sound bad but there's shelves of pills. Pills of every size and color. I grab a bottle.
A few of this kind, a few of the next.
How many should I take?
5?
10?
20?
I think I have enough.
Pills in hand, I write my tearstaind goodbyes.
Nothing that can stop me now.
I throw back the pills. I lay down. As my eyes shut, I smile.
Goodbye pain.
Goodbye world.
I feel at peace for the first time in years.
