If Love Were A Drug

Freestyle Writing--> Prologue

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Howard is texting a page long text about how he is heart-broken to his soon to be ex-girlfriend. This is his third break-up with Emily. The first two times just didn't workout, but this time was different. Howard found out the truth about Emily this time. He realized that this whole fucking time, she was cheating on him with her rich, tall, handsome, preppy best friend. " I shook his hand on the first date with her", he mutters somberly. Tap, tap, tap. I hope he was worth it; I certainly must've not been worth anything to you apparently.

TAP.

Sending...

Howard is biting his fingernails nervously. She won't give two shits about it, she'll just want to argue and tell me that I wasn't doing enough like usual. Howard then glances at the AR-15 that is leaning against the stairway beside the front door. Fuck it, guess we'll find out here soon, Howard deflects.

Sent.

Howard's eyes go wide for a second and then he quickly downs a fifth of tequila until the bottle is empty.

Ring!

Howard shuts his eyes closed and balls his fists.

Ring! Ring!

Howard's face starts to turn dark red and his throat starts to constrict.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

Howard opens his eyes and attempts to answer the phone call, but he is struggling to breathe. Everything is starting to get blurry, shapes are shifting, and colors are blending. I can't do it, he tells himself. Instead he chose to start crawling towards his gun.

After what felt like a marathon, he finally reaches the gun and tries to pick it up. His hands are trembling as if it were -20 degrees in the room.

The gun falls down on the floor and Howard puts the barrel inside his mouth and reaches for the trigger.

BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM!!!

Is that Emily?

It's too late, Howard tells himself before he takes what might be his last breath.

                                                  

Howard passes out cold with the barrel in his mouth and his free hand slump againts the trigger guard lifelessly.