[ WP ] : You survived Cancer , a plane crash , and the third world war , you lost a piece of you in each .

Sitting on my 30 year old lounge chair, the scars remind me of the shit I went through. Skin cancer, took a piece of my skin, a big one too, the war gave me my God forsaken cane and the hijacking... took away my dominant arm. I have nothing anymore. My buddies died horribly in the war, most of my family died in the crash, but I stayed here even after stage 3 cancer. Why?! I lived my life already, there's nothing for me! There has n't been in 15 years. My anger slowly subsided but never left. I am alone... no one can help me. My only son and his kids all died in the crash, sure I have cousins but I have n't seen or spoken to then since God knows when. Life is empty now. Slowly, yet surely I get up and out of my chair; I left my cane behind, I realised, it does n't matter I do n't feel pain anymore just hope. My hand shakes as I grab my drawer handle, I am so unsure but I feel so full of hope cold metal brushes against my hand. Found it, my heritage pepper box revolver from the 19th century, already loaded. I put the old gun right to my temple... I can finally go! Finally! Tears of joy slide down my old weathered face. I pull the trigger. There's a short click, then nothing. 
 
 Darkness
