Contemplating,
I approached the cache that held my instrument of choice.

I reached for the ****.
It let out a creaking sound as I pulled it out of its solace.

There it is.

The haunting creak still echoes in the depths of my conscience.

"Is this the right thing to do?"
It slipped through my drowning consciousness
and escaped with my breath as I reached for the apparatus.
It was icy cold

and in seconds, I couldn't tell the difference between my own heart and... this object.
It was automatic, my arms rose with robotic precision.

I envied it for a second as it was just following its master's bidding.

I closed my eyes for the last time,
hoping that some divine intervention would stop me from what I was about to do.

But still the act proceeded.

The trigger was pulled.



Words are all that came out.



How lovely a pool of blood would have been that night.