I wake up.

I rise, and look around.

*Its still the same, messy bedroom of mine. My tank top is drenched in bodily sweat, as it clings to me. My right hand still holds my revolver,  grip tight, the pistols metal grip numbing and cold, as I look at it.*


*It's time to see what'll happen.*

I slot the barrel of the revolver in my mouth, pointing at its roof in one smooth motion.*

I aim directly at the brainstem.


My heart pounds, vibrating my whole body with it. My ears go red, it feels hot.  I taste the revolvers metal. It scratches the soft flesh of the roof of my mouth.

I think of nothing, even if I could die. I am past worrying of death.


I breath shakily, it's the only thing I hear.


I turn the safety off, as I pull the trigger, jolting in expectation.


*CLICK* 


*The sound reverberates in my skull, as if  the revolvers taunting me.*

*I feel awake, alive now.*

*I remove the revolver from my mouth, fresh saliva coating it's tip, as I gag.*

*Guess it's time to start the day.*

*I look at the revolver, seeing my reflection in its metal.*

"Why'd you spare me today?" *I say sheepishly, knowing it will not respond.*

"I fucking hate you, you know." *I say.*

*No response. Instead, the pistols grip grows cold, numbing my fingers even more.*


(NSFW- Suicide and really gritty sensory details, DO NOT continue if you don't want that) "So this is my life, huh."