My hands are trembling, I can feel the tremors shake my whole body. They had said I had to. But I don't want to. I look at my hand, it's twitching like it has a mind of its own and, with each twitch, it strains to drag itself away from the poison. My heart is beating like the pounding of hooves in a stampede, my mouth is dry, the saliva in my mouth, evaporated and, all of a sudden, I can't breathe. This is the end.

I reach up and I can feel everything crystal clear. Every muscle that tenses, every bone that grinds against bone, every breath, every tear on my cheek. Slowly I place it in my mouth.

It is sweet, almost like honey - staying true to its colour. I curl my tongue up, feeling it slide slowly down my almost dry tongue and into my throat.

This is it.

-------

The drug is starting to take its effect. I can feel the chemicals bonding to my blood, clawing it's way at the cells. Each minuscule atom of the poison, latching on to each cell - red and white alike. Then the physical effects kick in.

First, my breaths start to shorten, my lungs struggling to take in oxygen from the surrounding air. Then my hands start to tremble even more, my quivering muscles shaking fervently. My heart starts to beat faster, struggling to carry the limited oxygen to my lungs and around the rest of my body and my eyelids begin to flutter close, fatigue dragging them down. Then my blood started to boil like fire streaking through my veins.

I scream, the inferno spreading throughout my body. My head thrashes from side to side, crashing against the wall. A glint of metal catches my eye as I slide down the steel wall and the gun slips from my grasping fingertips to land in front of my feet. The echo resounds around my head and, slowly but surely, my vision blurs and gradually darkens.

-------

When I wake, my mind is in agony, my skull threatening to crack under the pain. My breaths come as short, fervent gasps, their rasping sounds making me wince in discomfort. I let my knees drop to the floor before putting my shaking hands down on the granite and pushing myself up. I am weak, so weak, and my trembling arms ache as I put pressure on them.

I am now on my hands and knees, my head hanging low between my arms. My body convulses, my breaths becoming harder and harder to manage. My whole body hurts, the fire has decreased throughout my body but the ashes and cinders still burned bright in my veins. I whine, a weak, pitiful moan. I have to get up. I have to get out of here.

So I drag my right leg under me, the movement jarring me and drawing a gasp from my mouth. I lean heavily on my bloody knuckles, feeling the gravel digging into my flesh. Slowly, I draw my left leg to match the position of the right. I grit my teeth, this was too much pain. Suddenly, I find the last piece of strength within me and, grasping at it, I stumble to my feet.

My whole world tips over, everything going sideways as I veer to the left, crashing into the wall. The cold of the metal seeps through my skin as I shoulder barge the wall, chilling me to the bone. I shiver, barely finding the strength to do even that. Breathing out, I watch in wonder as my cloudy breath spirals away from me. The back of my eyeballs burn, a furnace behind them. I try to take another step but stop as I feel a metal object stub my toe.

My eyes widened as I look down. The silver barrel of the gun shines in the dim light emitted from above me. I gingerly nudge it with my toe, completely terrified of it. I know absolutely zilch about guns and, as I look at it, it fills my heart with horror. Bending down slightly, I pick it up. Although it had looked bulky on the ground, as I hold it in my hands, it fit perfectly, the sleek build holding my hand like an old friend. Somehow, it felt familiar although I know that my hands have never touched one in my whole life.

Tucking it into the back of my belt, I pull my hoodie over it. I flick the hood over my head, almost sighing in relief as the light disappears from my line of sight. Leaning against the wall, I slowly slide forward, stumbling every couple of steps. After about five minutes, I eventually come to the door and lean against it. It swings open, crashing against the wall outside.

Startled cries sound outside as I limp forward, growling under my breath. The night air was cool and, as I trundle forward, I feel the fire in my veins begin to cool. I make my way home, sometimes falling to my knees and crying out in pain before crawling forwards a bit and pushing myself back to my feet.

Finally I reach my hotel and, fumbling for my keys in my back pocket, my hand closes briefly around the gun. I shake my head, the movement jarring my brain, and dive back into my pocket. I finally drag the fickle objects out of my pocket and almost immediately drop them. I drop to the ground and grab them before reaching up, clutching the door handle and hauling myself up. I finally slot the trembling keys into the slot and turn them. Swinging the door open, I stumble forward until I reach the grubby single bed. I sling myself over it and slide off the other side.

I lay crumpled on the ground and, realising I'm too achy to get back up, I close my eyes and slowly slip back into the darkness.

~~~

When I wake, I find three, black clothed men standing around me, disapproving looks shining in their eyes. One bends down, offering his hand. I take it.

I wonder if Freddie ever got back to base, this girl really scared him last night.

"What?" They look at me, confused as the man pulls me to my feet. Huh? They did hear that...didn't they? No? Okay... I smile, placing a well rehearsed 'silly girl' look on my face. "Sorry - hangover." I point to my head and start to twist my hair around my finger. Wow, these goons are stupid. They nod, their faces turning expressionless.

The man who had helped me up beckons with his head. Follow. I do. We walk outside and I can feel my head swimming. What did I take? What was that pill? What on Earth did it do to me?

We pass Angie, my next door neighbour, as we walk. I brush against her, barely noticing until the voice starts. I stop.

I am nothing.
I have no reason to be happy, and yet I have no excuse to be sad.
I have no desire to live but I do not have the right to want to die.
I hate myself for hating myself.
I just want it to end.
I want to end.

A tear shines in my eye as I listen to the voice. Slowly I turn, my heart beating fast and, all of a sudden, I know what she is going to do. "No!" I lung for her as she starts to fall. I feel a moment of misbalance...and now I'm falling. Down, down, dow-