A Silute holds a makeshift gun to my head. There is a moment of stillness as the gun sways Behind my head telling me to follow this dogma. “I want to be a heretic against my life”. So I beg the silute to pull the trigger, To squeeze it slowly without remorse, emotion. The silute talks about my loved ones, and ‘He’ Threatens me with their lives, I am conflicted with The thought of being the cause of all the slaughter. So instead he pushes me into a void of Happy depression... I am frozen in the void. Reflecting on life, all the pain and misery. I see the light of happiness but I refuse. I would rather be pulled into the darkness. Bang.