I've always pondered on deaths door, but he's never opened. I could care less about the hell and heaven shenanigans, but death. I want it. The end of my life.
I want to be in my suit, in my coffin, in the ground and my soul to be gone. I've been wa...
The following chapter contains graphic depictions of suicide and violence, which some readers may find disturbing.
Reader discretion is advised.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A few more codes. That's all I have and if it doesn't work, I'll give up. I'll try and beat this instead. "Zero-four-one-one." I hear the safe click as I turn the knob before I pull on the handle and it doesn't budge.
I lift the pen and scratch the code out. "Not his own birthday." I sigh as I try the next code. Time seems to stretch endlessly as I lose myself in the rhythmic dance of the tumblers. "One-zero-zero-three." I hunch over the safe, my fingers delicately caressing the cold numbers. Each click reverberates through the silence, echoing my determination. "Guess it's not my birthday." I sigh, moving onto Norah's birthday.
"One-seven-zero-nine." With each rotation, I sense the tension mounting, anticipation hanging thick in the air. My mind races, analyzing every subtle nuance, every tiny movement of the dial. "Fuck." I whisper under my breath as I move onto my last choice in numbers. "Two-three-zero-two." Sweat beads on my brow as I meticulously manipulate the combination, searching for that elusive moment of alignment.
And, finally, a faint click breaks the stillness, sending a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins. With bated breath, I turn the handle, heart pounding in my chest, and as the door swings open, a triumphant grin spreads across my face. "Well, dad," I talk to myself. "It's rude for you to put your dead daughter's birthday as your office safe code." I shake my head, reaching into the safe.
I move the stacks of cash out of the way, pulling out passports, important documents until my hand touches a familiar item. Quickly, I pull it out to see my iPhone 6. No fucking ways!
Shoving the phone into my back pocket, I pull out the small black case. My heart pounds out of my chest as I pull it out.
With a steady hand, I reach for the latch of the case, my breath held in anticipation. The metal clicks as I flip it open, revealing my dad's sleek black 9mm pistol nestled within the velvet lining. My fingers instinctively wrap around the grip, feeling the weight and power it holds. As I lift it out, a surge of fear courses through me, knowing that this weapon will be the end. This is it. This is determines the future of everyone who is important to me.
I slide the firearm into the back waistband of my jeans as I hide it with my t-shirt. I dart my eyes to the door, leaving the safe open and everything out as I make my way out.
I gulp, shutting the door behind me and making my way down the dimly lit hall with my heart in my throat.
I chew the inside of my cheek, unsure if this is actually what I want. I killed a girl tonight and even though she deserved it, I still feel like this might could've been different. Arti is laying lifeless on the ground outside of her burning house at the moment and I did that. Not Ravi. Me.
