Drugs.

Where am i?

//Fuck sorry the detail thing was supposed to be the first chapter. Oh well, may as well make the last one here.//

The man woke up, still in the same house. Was he dead? or did the suicide fail? He got up, and there was something on the back of his head, bugging him.. He touched the back of his head, and there was a hole through it. He was dead. Where was everyone? Wouldn't they hear the gun? He sat down, and dug in his pocket. There was cigarettes. You could smoke when you're dead? He put the end between his lips, and pulled out a white lighter, lighting it and inhaling the smoke. It was sweet and calm. His lungs were probably cold and black. After that, his wife walked in.

"Fuck!" she yelled out. She didn't seem sad or anything. She looked around the room, ran to the body and dug in the dead bodies pocket, pulling out bills of money. She grinned and walked out, with a laugh.

His eyes filled with tears. She was using him for his money. Thank god he was dead. His wife walked in again, this time with his daughter in her arms, and the wife pointed at the dead body and laughed.

"That's what happens when you do drugs, kid. Oh well, I got money, that's all that matters." she said, and she walked out. He heard the door bang. He quickly got up and tried to go outside, but it's like he was locked in a glass room. He couldn't walk outside. A sigh came out of him, and he walked to the dead body. He poked it and played with the objects in a box beside it, picking up a note and reading it. The suicide note.