00 POV Prologue 206

I press the muzzle of the gun to his head. 

My hand no longer shaking, a stillness has overcome me. The nervousness I felt only seconds ago has gone. This foreign object in my hand, this object that has the power to end life with as little as a squeeze of a finger, no longer seems foreign at all. In fact, the opposite, it is now familiar, so dearly familiar. I feel strong holding it, its power supreme. 

He remains perfectly still, fear-frozen, terrified that any movement on his behalf might incite me to send a piece of lead crashing through his forehead, tearing apart the jelly like tissue of his grey-matter and out the back of his cranium, Jackson Pollock'ing the wall with his final thoughts. 

I'm lucid. Aware. This isn't like a dream. I feel present. More present than I have ever felt. It is now clear what I have to do, and why I must do it. 

As my grip tightens, as my finger begins to pull on the trigger, I can't help but think that only twelve hours ago I was sitting in my car, inching along in traffic, excited, so very excited that my daughter was coming to visit...

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