The Button

I stood there, in that dark room. The only source of light was the soft red glow emanating off of the small button sitting in front of me. It resembled the kind of button an arcade game might have, but this situation was far from an arcade game. I knew what I had to do, or at least what I should do. Click the button. Do what I would have considered insane a short few months ago, but that was all in the past. Now it seems— no, it is the only logical choice. Regardless of who it hurts, or how many, I need to press this button. As I confirmed with myself what I would do I extended my hand until it hovered over the button. But could I? Why is it I that is given the power to do something like this? And the people that it would hurt... of course I could not click this button. It would be absolute madness. I could never deliberately harm so many. I brought my hand back and held it close to my chest. I knew that if I did not click the button I would end up in a much worse situation than if I did. But am I more important than the millions of others? Do I really hold myself so much higher than everyone else? Perhaps I did. I shakily held my hand back over the button. The red glow leaving only the panel around the button visible. A metallic blue, with scratch marks around the visible area. I softly laid my hand down on the button, not pressing it, but just touching it slightly. If I put any more pressure onto the button I would certainly press it down. I could feel my heart pacing in my chest, and the sweat dripping down my forehead. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what the aftermath of me pressing the tiny button down any further. The horror that my small action would result in... it terrified me. How had I even considered pressing it? Of course I knew the answer. It was because of what would happen to me if I did not press it. I would experience possibly worse than what I had imagined, followed most likely by my own demise. Was I that vain? Could I be so conceited, that I would do the unthinkable? Of course I was. To even consider this has to make me substantially self absorbed. But as disgusting as pressing the button would be, I felt compelled to slam it down repeatedly. To become consumed by the horrid feelings deep down inside me. The short minute I have stood in front of this panel has felt like an eternity. It was eating away at my sanity. My door was closing, and my chance to press the button was passing. But I couldn’t stop myself but to think of all the others faced with this same decision. I know for certain that others have stood in the spot I am standing in. Did it eat away at their sanity as well? Or was it an easy choice, to throw yourself away for the sake of others? They hadn't pressed the button. But I am not them. I am not prepared to give myself up for the sake of the rest, as they supposedly were. I raised my hand from the button to wipe a tear from my eye, and I paused for a moment. I have only stood in this room for less than two minutes. This was destroying me. I took one last deep breath, closed my eyes once more, and then I pressed the button.