A reason to live

He couldn't take it anymore. They'd suffered enough; he'd suffered enough.

He poured himself another drink, swallowed the whiskey in one gulp and picked up his gun.

The cold metal tasted bitter as he placed it in his mouth. All he had to do now was squeeze the trigger and it would be over.

He had no doubts, was certain there was no other way to stop the nightmares; to stop the pain.

It was only his brother's trembling voice that stayed his hand.

"Please don't ... I need you!"

Dean lowered his gun - for Sammy he would live.


"I, of whom I know nothing, I know my eyes are open, because of the tears that pour from them unceasingly."

Samuel Beckett