Prologue
I was in my room. My small, derelict, bland room. I was sitting on top of my bed with my legs crossed as I stared off into space. A sliver of sunlight shined through from my window onto my eye, but I simply ignored it and continued to stare at nothing. I thought to myself, my name is…Jack…no that isn't right it's…Lucy? Or maybe it was Damien…no, this is the original body so it must be…well what does it matter now? I breathed out a long sigh as I thought to myself some more and pondered. I sat there in my bed for a few seconds longer. It felt like an eternity. I could hear my clock ticking away in the corner of my room on my desk. I looked to my desk and remembered all the things that I had to study cramming for an AP euro final like any normal high school student would. Now it was just a desk with random scattered papers all over it with a mini lamp that kept flicking on and off. The ticking of the clock and the small humming from my lamp seemed to sound even louder as I sat in silence. I could feel that the time was about to come, something big… and I had to stop it. I look at my hand and there was a black object in it. I had it in my hand loosely and gripped it tighter only to realize it was a gun. I thought to myself, huh…didn't know there was a gun in my hand until now. Who was I kidding, of course I knew I had a gun in my hand but I was in denial at the time. Somewhere in the back of my head I knew what I was going to have to do with that gun. I could hear a voice in my head counting down, 43 seconds left. I swung my feet to the edge of my bed and let it dangle. I put my face into my hands unknowingly bumping my forehead against the gun still locked into my hand.
"Ow… even after all this I'm still clumsy as ever." I chuckled a little. 22 seconds left. I took a deep breath. God, I wish I had a smoothie. I was thirsty as hell. I stared a little bit at the gun I had in my hand. It was sweaty from me holding for a while. I wasn't an expert on guns so I didn't know what the model was or anything like that. All I knew was that it was something that could kill. I admired its smooth, ergonomic design. It looked like one of those handguns you would see in a cop movie or CSI. It had a bit of weight to it. 15 seconds left. I switched off the safety and gripped it firmly in my hand this time with my finger on the trigger. I breathed one last huge breath, taking all the smells, the dust, all the air that I could into my lungs. I was shaking at that point, trembling but, I couldn't afford to be scared or nervous. 10 seconds. I put the tip of the gun onto the side of my head. I realized how cold it was. 9…8…7… I began to whisper the countdown, syncing every word perfectly with the voice in my head.
"six…five…four…" This is it, I thought to myself, after all this it's finally going to be over.
"3…two…one…" I closed my eyes one last time and pulled the trigger…
The (Never)Ending begins here...