The moment happens so fast, yet time seems to stop. You are still beyond mere calmness, you heart pounds in your ears. Your head seems to swim, and your scalp feels tight as if it is over stretchered against your skull. Your hands move as though they are not your own as though some invisible force his directing their motion. You are hyperaware yet so far away. If you are in the bathrooms you take one last quick glance into the mirror. You may register the swollenness, the angry redness about your tear filled so empty eyes. You don’t think, you just act, the bottle cradled limply in your sweat drenched hand as the invisible force, the puppet strings of infinite sadness, in one swift movement wrench the lid from the bottle now held in the over tight grip of your possessed hands. You sigh a deep release of all the breath, and in that last act of desperation the once gentle hands commit the act of self-violence that you have been so longing to perform. As your hand snaps back as does your so weary head with your ears still pounding from the rush of fear and adrenaline and the poison of choice or simply of convenance pours into your welcoming mouth, you close your eyes. The poison hits your tongue, your mouth slams shut, and you start the laborious task of chewing and forcing down the pills that rest like bitter rocks in your cheeks. Your hand searches franticly for the facet as you lurch forward try...