I had been staring into your eyes for hours. If only they had been living eyes! Why did I have to live and love you through these photographs of long ago?
"Why" is the only word I cried for hours as I remembered the times of our lives and of our love. The times when we cried and when we hugged. So I went to the bottle -- to my release. But even after three I was still on my feet. So since you would never reply to any of mine, I decided against another lifeless letter. Instead I decided to waste it all away. To get out of this and end my hell.
I grabbed the bottle of pills that I used for my constant migraines and took one. I was going to solve this headache with the proper medicine. I kept dropping more and more of them down my throat. They started to slide down easier, as my body starting swaying back and forth. But on the one before my bottle had no healing left to give me, I fell, as though an anvil had been dropped on my head. I hit the floor and did not even fight consciousness as it left me.
So this, I believe, is worth much more to you than any letter...
24th place (out of 36) in the 11th Annual Interactive Fiction Competition.
Written by Zach Flynn using the pseudonym 'Tim Lane'.
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