A/N: Just a thing I wanted to do. It's not gonna be long but I am planning to make it brutal, so watch out. Hugs for everyone that need them. Warnings: The second part of this is going to contain attempted suicide and a whole lot of angst and depression. And remember, if you need help, get help. For anything. It's not a bad thing. Again, hugs. I totally hug everyone that needs hugs. So, hug. Just keep that in mind. Hugs. Hugs, you guys.
Nobody's in the house in the morning. Daddy's long gone, as is big sister; Judy is… somewhere. Probably looking up ways to talk to your lesbian daughter. She'd been surprisingly accepting; all she wanted was to be with her daughter.
Not that I really care. I only care about one person's opinion of me, and that person doesn't care at all. As I learned.
There's a revolver in a drawer. I don't think Judy's ever seen it; I don't think she's ever looked through her ex-husband's things. I have. I didn't tell her about it… for some reason. Maybe I always knew this would come.
I take a single bullet, slide it into the cylinder, spin it, snap it shut with my eyes closed.
Three, I decide. Three chances. I get three chances and if I don't do it, I'll never think of it again. Hell, if I don't die, I'll even tell my mom what I tried to do, here. Let her… whatever. Get help, or something. Whatever she wants to do.
I take a deep breath and shut my eyes as I lift the gun.