Send away for a priceless gift
One not subtle, one not on the list
Send away for a perfect world
One not simple so absurd
In these times of doing what you're told
Keep these feelings, no one knows
Alone. How often could he use that word in describing his life? Everyone left him deserted him. Why? Because he hated people and they could sense it. They could smell his fear of them. They looked down on him with maniac grins and wild eyes, enjoying his torturous life.
This world had turned its back on him. God, he could look back on his childhood and now call it perfect compared to what he was living now. Everyone he knew deserted him in a time when he needed them the most, in a time when he was so close to breaking down that he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't even find the will to get out of bed in the morning. Eventually, he lost his job, his girlfriend, every friend he had ever made. It was his own fault. He wanted to isolate himself from them so when he finally went through with what he had to do, it wouldn't sting them as much. They couldn't blame themselves. Because it had absolutely nothing to do with them.
Whatever happened to the young man's heart
Swallowed by pain as he slowly fell apart
And I'm staring down the barrel of a .45
Swimming through the ashes of another life
No real reason to accept the way things have changed
Staring down the barrel of a .45
He couldn't remember when he decided this was what he had to do, but he had been preparing for it for months now. He had written everyone- his parents, his friends, his boss, his girlfriend- a personalized note telling them why this was his only option. His own self-hatred had consumed him, and eventually destroyed him.
When he was a teenager, he had started this list- an anti-suicide list. It named every single thing that he had to live for, everyone it would destroy if he died. Gradually, he stopped adding to that list. I mean sure, he knew some people would be saddened for a while but eventually they would all move on with their lives. He didn't realize how very wrong he was.
Send a message to the unborn child
Keep your eyes open for a while
In a box high up on the shelf
Left for you, no one else
There's a piece of a puzzle known as life
Wrapped in guilt, sewn up tight
How could it have all come down to this? He couldn't help but ask himself this simple question as he pointed the barrel of the gun at his right temple. He was always the optimistic one, a glass half full kind of guy. He liked to think he cheered up everyone he was around, that they would miss his humor when he was gone.
This wasn't the first time he had tried something like this before. His first try, needless to say, wasn't that successful. 'Just leave on the fume hood, no one will even know'. Instead, a close friend of his, one of the few people who cared, was blamed for it all and almost lost her job. That was sheer stupidity, his first attempt. He didn't realize how many people he could possibly endanger, how many lives he could have ruined.
Whatever happened to the young man's heart
Swallowed by pain as he slowly fell apart
And I'm staring down the barrel of a .45
Swimming through the ashes of another life
No real reason to accept the way things have changed
Staring down the barrel of a .45
He wasn't quite sure what had triggered it, but somewhere down the line, he had lost his will to live. Slowly, almost dreadfully, he moved his index finger that final quarter of an inch.
Everyone's pointing their fingers
Always condemning me
Nobody knows what I believe
I believe
The whole team received the news together. Grissom gathered them in the break room and delivered it himself. He could see the wave of emotion that ran through the team- anger, hate, grief, mourning, shock, and finally, disbelief- because he had just gone through the pattern himself. Greg, happy-go-lucky Greg, was gone and not a single member of that team fully understood why.
Whatever happened to the young man's heart
Swallowed by pain as he slowly fell apart
He told them all to take the shift off; no one would be able to work tonight. As he was walking out the door, he saw her, sobbing uncontrollably in the far corner of the locker room. She looked up when she heard his footsteps echo on the hard tile floors as he walked toward her. One look at him and her face immediately crumbled. He sat down beside her on a bench in the locker room and embraced her.
"Oh God, Grissom. Greg-. I- I'm pregnant. It's-it's his."
She fell into his shoulder, weeping at the disaster Greg had created.
And I'm staring down the barrel of a .45
Swimming through the ashes of another life
No real reason to accept the way things have changed
Staring down the barrel of a .45
AN: this was just a quick idea that I decided to write down. I was trying for the whole depression thing. Either I fully depressed all of you, or you could laugh at how badly this was written.
I needed a short break from The Agony of a Stalker. Please don't flame me because I killed Greg, if you want to flame me, do it because the story sucks, not because I killed him.
The song in this chapter is .45 by Shinedown. PLEASE REVIEW!!!
