An account

I was at my <PERSON>'s house. The house had grey colored rug. The walls were covered in rug like fabric, which was also grey. I remember feeling miserable. Like life was not worth it anymore. There was a love seat, a rocking chair, and a 3 person couch. and in front of the rocking chair was an ottoman. Well I remember my dad, my uncle, and brother was in the front room. They were watching me. I felt more cold as I watched them glare at me. I closed my eyes, sighing deeply, trying hard to make myself feel better but I could not. I saw this black carrier on the floor. It was made of plastic. I snapped open clips that kept the case together and saw what was inside.. <URL> A Springfield. I grabbed it... my hand shaking from the weight of it. I felt how smooth it was.. and I felt a sense of relief. I looked up at my family, all was quiet. I loaded a bullet into the chamber, cocked it back. and rested my finger on the trigger. I leaned over the ottoman, turned my head to the side... closed my eyes. Warm tears gently glided down my cheek as I put the gun to my head. I shot myself and fell off the ottoman, onto the floor and bled out. My family still glared at my corpse and then... I woke.