By Son Soldevilla
He rushed to a bottle of morphine. Shivering, he took seven pills and held them near his mouth. He closed his eyes. He supposed that it was the perfect time to end his own misery. Perhaps, no one would care. Perchance, nobody would stop him.
Many times he tried to help himself, but every time he did, he found more reasons not to live. All he knew was no doctor could treat his retarded mind. No medication could heal his devastated soul. No drug could kill his pain.
His mind was all set. He swallowed deeply, then he said, “Okay. Game…”
A chilling walk on the dark side–that’s my best summation of this little gem.
Thank you 🙂