Half an hour had passed.
Jen was now taking slow, deep breaths, having calmed a bit. On the outside, anyway. In her mind, was a different story. For now, the echo of Henry was gone… but replaced with a sense of hopelessness. It had to end. ALL of it. She did not want to live anymore.

Jen wanted everything over with, but quick and now. A blank, lifeless stare was now upon her face as she left the bedroom and wandered around the house, searching for anything she could use to make it immediate. Knives in the kitchen and cleansers in the bathroom would not be good enough.

Perhaps Mark's bedroom would hold the answer. She went in and quickly began to rummage through his dresser drawers, trying to feel beneath clothing for anything gun-like. Nothing in the top drawer. Same for the second one. But once she felt around in the third drawer, she breathed a sigh of relief. In the right corner of it, underneath two pairs of pants, was a small black handgun. And loaded.

Mark had just pulled up, exited his truck, and headed inside carrying a single plastic bag with an orange juice carton in it. Jen was so lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice or hear him enter the home.

Mark was about to call out for Jen until he noticed some movement going on in his bedroom. Quietly setting the bag down onto the couch, he tiptoed to the doorway just in time to see that it was Jen, who was now raising the gun up to her head. "Jen, NO!" He screamed in utter shock and fear.

Startled, Jen jumped a bit and spun around to face him, the gun now held out and pointed at him. "Whoa…" Mark responded and held up his hands, remaining calm, "Jen, put the gun down please. You're stronger than this."

Her head shook, "You don't understand! You don't understand what it's like! I can't- I can't live like this… hearing his voice in my head! Taunting me! Laughing about what he did…!"

Once again, she rose the gun to her head and Mark immediately rushed forward into the room a few more steps before freezing again, because Jen aimed at him once more, "Stay away, Mark! I have to do this…"

Tears streamed down her cheeks, simply because she was aiming a gun at Mark. She didn't want to be. She didn't want to hurt him. He'd been so kind and protective. It was just a scare tactic. She wanted to end her life and didn't want him to stop her.

"Jen, if you do this, you're letting Henry win. I have faith in you and I know you're stronger than him. Please, don't let him do this to you. You're right, okay? I don't know what it's like- the torment that you're going through… but I want to be here for you. We can deal- together. I want you here with me. Don't give in to his voice…" Mark tried, pleading and hopefully was reassuring enough to her.

Jen stared in silence, the gun now slowly lowering. At this, Mark began to step forward again, but slowly. Once he was in front of her, he reached out for the gun and found it easy to take away. Jen had let go as soon as he touched it. Mark let the bullets drop out of it to the floor and tossed the gun out the doorway, then pulling Jen into him for a firm, but caring embrace. She embraced back slowly, but still stood pretty stoic.

At that moment, Mark's cell phone began to ring from his pocket. He let go of Jen and gave her a smile before answering it. She gave a weak smile back.

"Hello?" Mark spoke, bringing the cell up to his ear.
"Guess who." A voice on the other end teased.
Sinister laughter followed.