Room 1013

Fall On Your Knees

Heartbreak is a terrible thing. When you're in love with someone, you think that nothing bad could ever happen to you. That you two aren't the majority that will fail. Everything will be fine because you guys are perfect for each other. That's how it is, right?

You're wrong. It's called majority for a reason.

All Keith could do was sit on the floor in unimaginable pain and try to keep himself from passing out. If he wasn't sobbing, he was hyperventilating through the tears that painted his skin. He had a place to stay, and that was a start. But the gun in his lap? That was an end.

He had forgotten it was there. In his haste to leave the situation, he didn't realize that he packed a way out. Whether it was a blessing or a curse, he didn't know; but a bullet sounded tempting enough.

Keith was on fire. His entire being was crumbling around him, creating piles of the love he once had. It ruined him. Lance planted a seed that embedded itself into his lungs and grew up his throat. The roots carved their way into his veins and wrapped themselves around his bones. Their love was more destructive than the cancer that he wished had taken his life. I did this. It's all my fault.

Keith carefully lifted the gun with both trembling hands. It was heavier than he thought. No one ever tells you that. He turned it over and inspected the metal as it warmed in his clammy palms. He flipped the safety off and held it up. It would only take a second. Keith's arms lost their strength and fell to his lap as he let out more heart-wrenching sobs. He kept his hands gripped tight on the gun and looked up to the ceiling. I did this to him.

Keith's heart sped up as he panicked. With every inch he raised his hand, his heart convulsed faster. He pointed the gun out in front of him as if to hit the wall. Keith pictured himself sitting on the other side, looking at him as if they lived in a mirror. He let out a pitiful cry and pulled the gun back to place it under his chin.

He wheezed through his teeth and adjusted his grip. "Please," Keith pleaded with himself, "Please!"

His arms gave away again and dropped to the ground. A puddle of tears coated the back of his hands. With a few quick breaths, he yanked it up again and jabbed the barrel into the side of his head. Keith was tired, so tired. His body screamed for mercy and begged to be set free.

Keith let out a sharp yell and pulled the gun away once more. His chest wouldn't calm down. Am I such a coward that I can't even kill myself?

He stared down at the tear-speckled metal and watched the light reflect off the ridged surface. If he gave himself a few moments of rest, then he could gather the courage to pull the trigger. So he did. A minute of breathing his last breaths and crying his last tears.

That's all I need. Keith picked up the gun for the last time and placed it under his jaw. If this was all he could do, then so be it. He was supposed to die. Everything was all planned out. Keith clenched his jaw and bared his teeth, "I had a plan!" More sobs tore at his throat.

Keith shook his head, keeping the gun in position. This is it. I can't live without Lance. I don't want to live without him. A waterfall of tears poured out of his eyes and collected on his jaw to run down his neck. I wish the cancer had killed me.

Keith's lungs pounded on his ribs, stretching them out to the point of pain. I'm done. With one drawn-out breath, he let out one last shrill death cry.