10
I held the gun tightly in my hand. The smooth metal was so cold it stung my skin. I was shaking uncontrollably as I took a step forward. Toward the bright light shining down in the middle of the room. Toward him.
9
He was sitting in a metal chair. He was pale, sickly pale. Dark, thin veins webbed around his arms and stood out starkly against his skin on his temples and jaw. He was staring at me. Pleading with his eyes. I stepped closer.
8
I had to do it. He wanted me to. He needed me to. I took a shaky breath. I had to. I stepped even closer.
7
He was so close I could touch him. Feel the heat of his skin. The roughness of his palms. I couldn't do it. I couldn't, but I had to.
6
"Please." It was the first time I had heard him talk in months. His voice was low and raspy, but still comforting and familiar. I averted my eyes.
5
I knew I had to do it quickly, but I couldn't bring myself to. His condition was worsening. It wouldn't be long until he becomes contagious. I had to.
4
I touched his cheek lightly. His dazzling blue eyes met mine, and the dams inside me broke. Tears flooded down my cheeks and dripped off my chin. I had to.
3
The gun felt like it weighed a ton as I slowly lifted it. I pressed the barrel to his forehead and he closed his eyes.
2
"I love you," He muttered. I put my hand over my mouth to muffle the sobs that escaped me. I managed to control the sobs long enough to speak. "I love you too."
1
I squeezed my eyes closed, took a big breath, and pulled the trigger.
