Brian stumbled to his apartment and with difficulty, unlocked the door. He went in and flopped on the couch. It had been a long night. He immediately fell asleep.
At noon, he woke up. He felt like crap, but he got up, anyway. He checked the mail. When he saw a few bills, he sighed. It wasn't like he could pay all of them, anyway.
Suddenly, the canine spotted a big envelope among the bills. His spirits lifted; it was from the publisher that he had sent his previous script to. Excited, he ran inside, put the bills on the table, and opened the large envelope. He took out the paper and read it.
It was a rejection letter.
Brian's mood plunged, and his hopes were dashed. He should have been used to failure by now, but each rejection chipped away at him bit by bit. He had been so sure someone would accept that script since he thought it was the best one he had ever written, but obviously, it wasn't.
He needed to get his mind off of it. Then, he remembered that he had met a woman the day before who gave him her number. Maybe this was his chance to go on a date and forget his troubles. He dialed the number on his cell phone and waited.
A man answered the phone. Brian asked, "Hi, is Patricia there?"
"Who?"
"Patricia. She gave me this number."
"I don't know a Patricia."
"Maybe I dialed the wrong number. Sorry."
Brian hung up and examined the number carefully. He swore that he had put it on his phone right. He dialed it again, and this time, the same man answered it. Then, Brian came to a realization: Patricia had given him a phony number.
Brian threw his phone and sat on his couch, head in his paws. This was it, the epitome of despair. His career and love life were going nowhere. Nothing ever went right for him. He was a failure, and nothing would ever change that.
Alexis woke up when she heard the car start. Her heart began racing. She wasn't ready to go home. She waited until the car stopped to look out the window. Thankfully, they weren't at her house. She saw her uncle go into a gun shop. She was confused; she didn't know Brian had an interest in guns. She stayed in the car and hoped that he wouldn't see her. The teenage girl heard him open and close the trunk, get in the driver's seat, and drive away.
Alexis had to tell him sometime. She wasn't sure if it was wise or even necessary to tell him that she had spent the night in his car. Her thoughts were interrupted when the car stopped. Alexis heard Brian get out and open and close the trunk. When she looked out the window, she saw him walking in with a pistol. Alexis was confused. What would her uncle be doing with a pistol?
Brian closed the door to his apartment and sat on the bed, holding the gun. He loaded it, then stared at it. He was terrified yet relieved. In a few short moments, his pain would be over. All the unhappiness he had felt would no longer matter. This thought made him happy. It was sad that the thought of killing himself made him happy, that it had all come down to this. He supposed that some people and dogs weren't meant to have a good life.
He briefly thought of his family: his mother and stepfather, his brother and sister-in-law, and his niece. None of them would miss him, so his thoughts about them passed as quickly as they came.
Brian sighed and summed up his courage. He took a deep breath and put the gun to his head.
