Past
Dean
What have I become?
When did ending it all become my only option? My only way out? I’ve thought about it hundreds of times, but never with this much resolve. Never with so much determination. But I can’t take it anymore.
It’s too much.
And Sylvie.
I am nothing without her.
Gripping the sides of my head, I beg the voices to stop but they won’t shut up. They never will. They constantly battle with my heart and soul, begging to end it all.
I focus on the pain.
It’s the only thing that is real anymore.
“Dean, please. We can get help if you’ll just—”
I laugh at her ridiculous plea. “There’s not a goddamn pill or doctor that can cure me. You know that. What does it matter anyway? I’m nothing without you.”
Her tear-filled eyes hold mine as fear causes her body to tremble. “Don’t say that. You matter.”
The cold steel feels heavy against my skin but it’s nothing compared to the burden I carry inside.
She’s sobbing now, tears of pain rolling down her cheeks in rivers of grief. Pain I know is there because of me.
I’ve never been able to figure it out. The poison that lives inside of me eats away at my mind like a starving vulture. All I know is that I can’t fight it anymore.
I don’t have the fucking strength.
I grab ahold of the back of her neck, pulling her forehead to mine, then I press the barrel of the gun underneath her chin. “I want to take you with me,” I whisper, looking into her deep blue eyes.
The only place I find any semblance of peace is when I look into those eyes or hold her in my arms, but I am slowly killing her, sucking the life from her, and I can see it every time she looks at me.
The insistent need to pull the trigger is growing stronger by the second. I long to bury the pain once and for all. To suffocate the voices that whisper truth and lies.
Her eyes flicker with pain, corroding the remainder of my lifeless heart.
I have to save her.
She swallows hard, licking her lips. “You don’t have to do this. Think about Caroline. Think about what this will do to her.”
Caroline.
I don’t want to leave her behind either, and I silently thank God she’s not here. I’m afraid of what would happen if she were.
She’ll be better off without me.
They both will be.
“Why are you doing this?” she begs, her voice raw and weak.
“It’s the only way I can set you free.”
I’m not stupid. I know my wife, better than anyone. And I know why she wants to leave. I can’t blame her. But I’ll never be able to let her go and live in this world without her.
