He walked through the damp grass, not yet soaked in the fall rain and it crunched from the dry summer under his bare feet.
The day had been longer than any other he had ever experienced, but now it seemed like the world was orbiting so fast he might fall into space and freeze while his eyeballs popped out in strange round Popsicle form.
Each step, no matter how sound it felt on the lawn, could not sooth the feeling that soon he would fall away.
A chirping squirrel scowled at him from a nearby tree that his shoulder had just rested against. He only had to get into the door, and it would all be over.
If he had known three days ago that this is all it would take to completely change his life to the point he didn't even recognize his own reflection, he would probably not be walking to his car at this moment so arduously.
Never before had his depression led him to a highway overpass, never before had he been so utterly lost in the thought that he must end everything before it got worse. All his life he had despised those who would selfishly leave others behind to clean up the mess. And when he held that gun to his head, all the justifications seemed to culminate and weigh heavy on that trigger.
It would have conquered him had his sister not called him at that moment to remind him that his niece wanted to come over for the weekend.
She was his angel, and now, guarding over him from a place of pure ignorance and innocence, he would get into that car and get help.

His last footfall brought him to the door of the car, and as he got in and drove away something he did, something he was about to do, finally it was something that was completely right, and he could find no fault in it.

The world still spun, but now it was going in the right direction, and soon he could tell the difference between day and night, happiness and sadness, the sound of his families voice and the sound of shadows.

As he pulled out onto the highway, the same one he had imagined himself falling from the overpass onto. He realized he could have caused a major accident doing something that stupid.

He was done fighting it, and it was time for help.
He picked pieces of grass off his cloths as he drove to the nearby hospital, the dark blood where the bullet had grazed him already dried in most spots but still dripping lazily down into his ear.
It never had to get this far, but he was glad it didn't go any farther.