[ WP ] Individuals ready to take their own life , can now choose to give their health to someone who needs it .

I glance down, rotating the blade to catch the the small halo of light reaching from the singular hanging bulb in the center of the room. I bring the small rectangle of light, reflected off the polished stainless steel, and make a quick slice across my shadow. 
 It's not about suffering anymore, the world collectively moved past that. The people that were desperate for an excuse ceased their longing long ago. They were the trials, no, the floodgates that permitted society to admit the truth. 
 There are n't many of us left, and of those remaining one can only guess the percentage presently staring past a tool of their possible demise, into the depths of thought, pathetically attempting to glean a reason. 
 The real shocker is how no one realized before how close we really were to this. How small a reason we needed to admit that we were looking all along. 
 The night of the announcement, we lost a third. Some clinically depressed beforehand, some too ashamed to admit they were considering it. Suddenly the primary deterrent, the guilt of burdening those you love, was balanced; balanced by the assurance that your health would be going to someone who might make better use of it than you. After all the news makes it evident, good people die every day, and now you could prevent one, prevent the 10 year old girl in a coma after being struck by a drunk driver at 9:00pm yesterday evening with a collapsed lung and fractured femur from dying the morning after. 
 By the dusk of the next day we had lost half the remaining. Survivor's guilt claimed a few, passing on the `` blessing'' their loved one's sacrifice had bestowed. Hospitals are emptied, morgues are filled. God knows how many dead are yet to be found, those who donated their health quietly, in the sanctity of privacy, away from judging eyes. Many were from sloth, an existential admittance that they would rather guarantee their life was for a cause than have to bear and live it. 
 And here I am, the evening of the third day, searching for an iris in a reflection so I might ask that face why not? I'm not sure how many remain, the news has stopped, the radio silenced. No one alive today bothers to kid themselves in justifying their actions with donating their health. After so many deaths, the overwhelming silence serves to strengthen the existentialist dread. Who would've thought humanity hanged in such a delicate balance. We tabooed suicide, rejected the futility in our lives, glamoured petty accomplishment, but the thought was always there. `` We do n't really have a reason, why bother?'' At this point suicide is simply a gift to the ignorant, may they live long lives and enjoy the little things in good health. If there are any ignorant left. 
 Upon internal reflection I have to admit the only reason I have n't ended it already is to carry out this banter, to put into words what most of humanity has already reasoned the last few days. It's not will I, but can I? Am I strong enough? 
 I bring the point of the blade to my chest, between my ribs, and press. 
 At the first sensation of pain I picture only a smiling face, any smiling face, as the recipient of my blessing, and pray there is one left. 
 My last breath is a sigh, my last sensation annoyance. This is existence, excuse after excuse, and all the world needed was a reason. 
 
 First post here, and attempt at creative writing in general. 
 I hope I did n't bore or annoy any with my poor formatting, constructive criticism is welcomed. 

