XIX

He put on his best suit. It would have to do. He had wanted to pour his antidepressants down the toilet, but the medicine cabinet was locked and his mother had the key.

Sid went into the bathroom and locked the door. He started the bathtub filling up with warm water. He laced up his dress shoes tight. With calm hands, he took the razor blade out of its packaging. It gleamed cruelly at him through the steam, but it greeted him like an old friend.

He put the blade down. His hands were shaking now. There was no turning back.

Sid walked slowly over to the tub, then eased himself in, turning the water red. He closed his eyes and finally, felt happy. Truly and utterly happy.