I had my back to the door and her. She shut the door to the room just as she had shut herself away from me.

I had opened the doors to my own heart, opened the windows too, laid my soul bare for her, but she had shut them, one by one, closing me inside myself, till now.  The doors and windows are shut now.

There is no light.

I pull the gun out from the papers, the memories. Even these wouldn't last forever. These moments of our love down on paper. They'd be thrown out, burned, buried in a landfill.

Just as she buried her love for me. Deep, so deep I could no longer dig those emotions out, no matter how I tried or struggled. 

She didn't see the gun, for my back was still turned to her.

"So..." she mutters, and I hear sadness in her voice. This was tough for both of us.

"What do you want?" She asks and I wonder that myself.

Closure perhaps.

"I just wanted to say goodbye." I say, breathing deeply.

I slip one of the spare bullets into the chamber of the gun and cock it. I know she hears it.

"What are you doing?" She asks, her voice different from before. She is confused now.

"Come on, turn around and talk to me." She says louder, trying to take control of the situation like she always does.

I almost stop myself then. I think maybe I don't have to do this. Maybe I can get over her. It's like that song, I will survive.

But then she steps forward and grabs my shoulder.

The touch ignites within me a plethora of beautiful memories. All the other times she's touched me, glazed my skin with her fingers, massaged the muscles in my back, laid her head on my chest. 

It's too much.

I turn and shove her away. She stumbles back, her eyes wide with surprise.

Her eyes widen more when she sees the gun. I switch off the safety and level it at her head. It's tough, something is blurring my vision. I'm crying. 

She opens her mouth to speak, but I do not want to listen to the golden voice again. It might break me. Stop me. A part of me wants to listen, wants to hear her speak. Perhaps wants me to stop myself. 

For a moment, I hesitate. Perhaps I will stop.

BLAM! The report of the gunfire is loud and surprising. It hurts my ears.

I didn't even know I pulled the trigger.

Her head snaps back, and her body collapses to the floor. I look at her dead body, not moving, not making a sound, and I begin to sob.

But I can't let it out. It hurts too much.

I hear a shout outside, footsteps charging up the stairs. Zeph.

I turn around and scramble inside the chest for the other bullet.

The door bursts open. "What the f***!?" Zeph yells, taking in the chaotic scene.

I slip the bullet into the chamber.

He sees that Maggie is dead.

"What the f*** are you doing man?" He yells, too shocked to move.

I cock the gun. 

"Jesus christ you can't do this!" He screams, freaking the f*** out, which is probably understandable at this point.

I try to switch off the safety, but realize it already is. 

I raise the gun and point it at Zeph.

"No no no no no no. Please God save me!" He falls to his knees, begging for salvation. 

"I'm sorry Zeph. I really am." I hear myself say, though am unsure about my true feelings. I feel cold, emotionless now, but I don't know why.

"You can't do this!" He screams again, before the gun goes off once more, and another body falls to the floor.  

I stand, gazing at the two corpses and strangely, I feel nothing. 

Finally. No more pain. No more anything. Flatline.