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Suicide
Prologue

Prologue

The sidewalk seemed overly harsh to Christina’s pounding feet. She stumbled along the flat ground and fell against the wall. She groaned at the pain shooting out from her dislocated arm knocking against the course brick building exterior. She nearly fell to the ground, hardly the first time it would have happened. Just walking was hard enough, even before the countless bruises and tears across her body.

There weren’t many people walking around, but she was garnering looks from all of those that noticed her. After making it up the stoop and into the building, Christina breathed an exhausted sigh. The hard part was done, she could use the elevator to get up to the 5th floor. She was relieved that she didn’t have to share it, but as soon as she stepped out onto her floor, she noticed her neighbor standing in the hallway, as she always seemed to do.

Christina tried to stand up straight and carry herself normally, but it was an impossible task. Even if she were able to fake a healthy stride, there was no way she could hide her swollen split lip, black eye, or small spots of blood staining her torn blouse. Her neighbor was shocked, keeping her eyes locked on Christina as she slowly passed. Just as she opened the door to her apartment, she looked back over to her neighbor and watched as she extended her middle finger. The gesture was in contrast to the look of worry on the woman’s face. Christina raised a confused eyebrow, then silently entered her apartment.

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She blew another sigh of relief, her journey was almost done, as long as Christina reacted as expected. She pulled a chair into the center of the main room and took a seat, then drew a heavy object from the pocket of her coat and gripped it tightly. She took a deep breath and sat silently for a moment.

As if she had awoken from a nightmare, Christina screamed at the top of her lungs and cowered into the chair, trying to make herself as small as possible. Through her uncontrollable shaking and shouting, she peeked through her eyelids at the room. The nightmare wasn’t over.

She was paralyzed with fear, it was over a minute of terrified screams before she realized that she was holding something. She gathered the courage to open her eyes again and saw her father’s revolver in her grip. Using it for defense didn’t cross her mind, nor did she care to take the time to see if it was loaded. She knew what needed to be done. Without hesitation, she put as much of the barrel in her mouth as she could and pulled the trigger.

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