It was better this way. It was the right thing to do. It had to be because that’s what he kept telling himself. They would be better without me. All he could feel was the darkness inside of himself. It felt like oil, oozing out of his pores and poisoning everyone he was near. It didn’t matter what his wife told him. Her words seemed hollow as they echoed inside his head. They didn’t need him to stay and depress them. They didn’t want this darkness to swallow them whole like it had him.

He watched as she drove away, tapping her brake lights periodically. It read in his brain like Morse code for goodbye. The day had been warm and sunny. He had cuddled with his grandkids and scared them as they played behind his chair but his body had been on autopilot. His thoughts were far away, shadowed by the darkness.

What had the argument been about? He couldn’t remember. If he was being honest with himself, it didn’t matter. He’d already made his plans months prior. He’d just been waiting for the black sludge to tell him when to make his move. Waiting for an excuse.

He grasped the heavy metal of the shotgun and carried it out the door. When had he grabbed it? All thoughts of danger drowned in the black pool inside his head. This was better, the voice spoke to him. This was how it needed to be.

The sun was just setting over the mountains. He watched it for a few minutes, hoping to calm the voice in his head but it screamed at him. Looking at the retreating car one last time, a tear fell to his cheek. He held the shotgun to his chin and whispered “Goodbye” as he let the voice win.