Five. The barrel of the gun felt cold and metallic against the roof of my mouth. The sound of the bustling city below was barely audible over the loud, erratic pounding of my heart. My hands were shaking and my legs were numb. Why?

Four. The ledge was my only remaining comfort; the only thing standing between me and the hard concrete of the dark alley six stories below. Life and Death. The beginning of the end.

Three. I stared into the cold, unfeeling eyes of my captor, pleading with them… with myself. It was useless. I knew I was going to do it. I was going to pull the trigger and it was all going to end. Life.

Two. A step backwards. A final choice. I am going to die… but why? Why am I here? I don’t want to die… but he didn’t either… he didn’t ask for death and it took him anyway… and now it is going to take me. Take me.

One. A deep breath. A final thought. This is my life; my choice. Mine to make and mine to take. My captor slides their finger to the trigger and sets me free. I am free.