The chamber of the gun came to an abrupt stop from its spinning as she cocked the hammer. She raised the gun to her head and drew in a deep breath. Click. She passed the gun.
With a steady hand he spun the chamber again and then cocked the hammer. He held it to his head and smiled. Click. He put the gun back in the box and smiled again.
"Tonight was not our time to die." She smiled at him and they went to bed.
It was a bizarre ritual indeed. Every night before they went to bed two friends would play a game of Russian roulette. And every night they would smile at each other and drift off to sleep. It might have been their way of dealing with depression, or maybe it was just for the thrill. Either way it made people uneasy around them. They didn't care, though, for them it was easier than dealing with counseling and shrinks. They confided in each other, and it all started when she found him with a gun to his head.
"What are you doing?" She asked as she laid her hand on top of his. He had caught her eye as she walked down the usually empty alleyway on her way 'home' from work.
"It's too hard… I just can't deal with it any more." He sobbed. She pulled the gun away from his temple and put a hand atop his head. He looked up at her with fearful eyes as she pulled one bullet from the chamber, spun it, and held it to her temple. She took a deep breath. Click. Then she handed him the gun.
"At least this way you know whether you're supposed to get the bullet or not. It changes from suicide, to fate." He smiled as he mimicked her actions. Click. "Not our time to die." She smiled and offered her hand to help him up. He took the help and proceeded to follow her to the abandoned Oldsmobile she called home. The two smiled at each other, situated themselves on the front seat, and fell asleep.