He holds a gun to your head,
The barrel digging into your temple,
And as he hisses in your ear a shiver of fear creeps down your spine.

You don't want to die,
But he makes you believe this is all you have to wish for,
That it's the only way to escape.

Now that you think about it,
Life wasn't as bad as you thought,
He just made it out to be so much worse.

He was constantly there,
Next to your side to "comfort" you,
And hand you the blade or the pills or this time,

To hold the gun against your ear,
And whisper words of escape when you hesitate,
To make sure you don't back down.

He was always there and you wished he wasn't,
Since he's the one that told you the truth about the people around you,
Wasn't it?

He only ever told you the truth,
He only ever did what was best for you,
Didn't he?

That's what brought you to this moment,
With the gun against your head and his hand easing yours to hold the gun,
His finger against yours holding the trigger.

This is for the best,
This is what's right,
But is it?

You aren't ready.
But he doesn't care because as soon as you open your mouth to tell him so,
He presses his finger down on yours holding the trigger.

The smell of the gun still smoking fills your nose,
Your last tear drips down your face,
And his name slips past your lips because now you're gone.

And it's all thanks to Death.

-Mavis, @ohsodamaged.