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| His mother always told him if he ever got sick of it, to tell her and he could quit, when he first started out. But he was too deep into it now, where what he wanted didn�t matter. On top of that, him and his mom weren�t as close as they once were. He was 20 years old now, not the same 14 year old she told that to. He wanted out. The job that once brought joy to his life, was now the same one which ruined the best thing that ever happened to him. It took the one thing he loved more than life itself away from him. She couldn�t handle his life. The crazy fans. The not spending more than 20 minutes alone together a day. All of it. Truth was, he couldn�t handle his life no more. What he once wanted more than anything else, now meant nothing to him. He wanted out... And he was going to get out. He looked down at his hand, at the shiny object it held. He raised it to his face to inspect it. He never held one before. Never touched one. He always thought it was a deadly weapon, one that ruined lives. But how could it ruin his life, when his was already ruined. He never allow his body guards to carry one. No, this one he had to swipe from his grandfather�s house. He held the small revolver up to his head, right above his right ear. He closed his eyes, praying that his family and friends would understand, even though he knew they won�t. Then... He pulled the trigger. His lifeless body fell to the ground in a heap. Red blood seeping into the white carpet, as he went into the darkness... |
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