The gun lying in front of me is tempting but I am terribly afraid of guns and so I don’t grab and shoot the man that is standing outside the window.
“What do you want?” I glance nervously at the clock on the wall.
The man doesn’t do anything he just stands there. My heart starts to race.
“Why don’t you just leave?” I cry, a feral yowl escaping my lips.
The man still doesn’t move. My heart slowly climbs up to my throat and I resist the urge to scream. Tears begin rolling out of my eyes and onto my cheeks for no reason. My body shakes with fear.
The man stands in the window, just staring in at me. The gun suddenly had eyes. It stared up at me.
“Why me,” I moan. I pick up the gun with shaking hands and point it at the man. His mouth breaks into a smile.
I moan again knowing there is only one way out of this thing. I thought all the possible things through and I knew what to do in order to escape this man that’s out to get me. I raise the gun to my head and before I can talk myself out of it I pull the trigger.



NEWS REPORT
“it’s said that today at about five o’clock in the afternoon Stevie Frey shot himself with a glock his father owned.” The news reporters voice was bored as she read the prewritten script she’d been given. “His parents say that his suicide was a result of his paranoia. According to the coroner the child had been skipping his medication and so finally his paranoia had caught up with him. Now on to the weather…”