Hello again my friends. I am back with a new, short, one-shot story. I was thinking of this while I was in school. Lately I have been in a funk, but now, I am renewed. So here is my story. Hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own digimon. But all feelings portrayed in this story are somewhat my idea. Don't you just love loopholes?

Game's Called Russian Roulette

I sit here, all alone, with no one to look to except God. 'God?' Humph! There is no God, at least not for me. I lost my faith ever since I can remember. Sure, I may have been taught by his teachings, but all of them seem questionable and contradictable. Neither way, it didn't matter to me. I know that I would be going to "Hell" anyway. For what I have done, for what I have failed to do, and for what I am about to do. I scoffed at what I had become just now. A low life: a being of utter despair and depression. But don't get confused. I am not an Emo freak. I am practically the opposite of that.

I stared at the objects outside my window. I was pretty high up from what I couldn't see down below. Yet I knew what was going on among the streets. People and cars passed by as the sun blazed down among them. I could feel the sun scorching the confines of my apartment as the rays hailed down through the window and onto the floor. I began to get annoyed with it and decided to stare at the carpet under my feet.

As I stared at the designs inlayed in the tapestry. Soon the patterns and color began to swirl before my very eyes. I shook my head and smiled. Soon, I had set my eyes onto the table in front of me. The reflection of the sunlight nearly seared my pupils as though I were staring directly at the sun. I figured out what the object was. How could I have not known, it was I who placed it there in the first place. It was a long barrel, silver colored revolver. I began to smile as I soon found myself fixated on the object next to it. It was a standard copper plated bullet used among regular handguns. Its slender design was complimented by the color of its shell casing. I found myself grinning madly. Just staring at it sent chills up my spine. Suddenly, I laughed. At first I chuckled softly, then without reason, I laughed maniacally. I was losing my mind again.

What I meant by 'again' was that this wasn't the first time I had briefly lost my sanity. Years ago, I was like my current self, supposedly. Though, I had never shown this behavior in front of anyone, not even my family. Every time that I was alone, I would either curl up into a ball in the corner, or I would just lie on the floor and laugh then. Every time I was at a get together, I would always make up an excuse and leave the party all together. No one ever asked me why I had left, but I knew that they were worried. I didn't need their help; all that I needed was reassurance that everything that I was doing was at least okay. Soon, they stopped caring, all of them. I hated it and loved it at the same time.

Yet doing it for this long became a constant worry for me. I was beyond any point of return and thought that I would be like this forever. I felt something falling down from my cheek. I didn't bother to wipe it away, even if I knew what it was. I was crying. Crying and laughing at the same time. Crying because of the realization of not being saved. Laughing because of the way things had worked out. I was a psycho and an emotional wreak. But no one bothered to help out. I knew that no one cared, so why should I too? My sobs were mixed with the choking laughter that came out. Now, I knew that I had become insane.

Soon, my grin widened as I found myself staring at the gun, then at the bullet, then back and forth. I began to laugh even harder as I grabbed the bullet and loaded it into the gun. With a spin of the revolver, I pushed it in, cocked the gun, pointed it to my head, and fired.

CLICK!

I stared at the gun again and repeated the process again. I was playing Russian Roulette, and I was happy. The memories of my life began to come back to me. I spun the revolver, pushed it in, cocked the gun, pointed it to my head, and fired again.

CLICK!

All of my memories began to swirl around me. Soon I let the tears fall freely as I laughed even harder. I spun the revolver, pushed it in, cocked the gun, pointed it to my head, and fired again.

CLICK!

All of my regrets, my fears, my love, and my happiness began to dance around me. I wanted to dance with them as well, but I couldn't seem to reach them. This was the end of the line. I spun the revolver, pushed it in, cocked the gun, pointed it to my head, and fired again.

CLICK!

"I don't want to die. I don't want to die!" I spun the revolver, pushed it in, cocked the gun, pointed it to my head, and fired again.

CLICK!

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE!" I laughed my hardest as I repeated the process once again. I was lost, and never found.

BANG! THUD! CLANK!

Everything faded as I fell to the floor. I could feel the blood from under my body slowly seeping into my clothing. "I-I d-d-don't want t-t-to…."

Six holes, one bullet, infinite ways to die. Looks like I chose the first option of death.

Well, that was pretty psychotic huh? Obvious choice of character: Tai. But I will leave you up to who you want it to be anyways. Thanks for reading.