To Many Thoughts

I lay in the darkness of my room the only dim light coming from a bedside lamp. My thoughts enveloped me and pulled me in. I tried to get away, but they wouldn't leave. They filled every crevice of my being. I needed an escape. When I see my gun sitting so innocently on my bedside table, ready for tomorrow's work, or maybe tonight's. I stare at the glistening silver barrel laying there, so innocent until it's put into a man's hands. I picked it up and felt it's weight. It felt so right. I had fired a gun so many times before, so why not just one more time, one final blast, one final kick. The final answer to my escape, the final answer to me. No more living in shame, no more living with my thoughts, no more living. The thought sent chills through me, but also a strange excitement. Relief. What I wanted so badly, and here it was so close. So I lifted the pistol and placed the barrel against my temple. I ran through the statistics, my brain still working, still thinking. How long it should take me to die, how long it should take my team to find me, how long will it take them to tell my mother, how long will they mourn over me. That last thought made me hesitant, stupid brain. What I prided myself so much on now what I hated most. One last thought, what am I leaving behind? The answer came clear and loud. Nothing. It should have made me sad it should have made me put down the gun. But instead it freed me completely. And with my mind finally quiet one final goodbye left my lips as I pulled the trigger.