He was alone. Everyone he cared for deserted him. His family abandoned him. He had no one left. HE had nothing to live for. His work fired him. All he had was an apartment he couldn't afford, a phone, and a gun.

He sold everything because he realized he didn't need it where he was going. He wasn't entirely sure why he kept the phone; probably wishful thinking on his part. But why was he hopeful when he had nothing left. Everyone was driven away. He didn't know why they left, but they left anyway.

Why keep the phone? He wondered about that. Oh well… He was alone now. They distanced themselves and now they were going to deal with the consequences. At least, he thought they were the ones distancing themselves. He may have done some isolating as well, but he didn't know anymore, nor did he care anymore. He was alone. No one cared for him. He was better off dead, and that is what he was going to be in a few more moments.

He raised his shaking hand, placing the gun to the side of his head. Just do it. Ring. What was that? Ring. Who's calling? Ring. Maybe I should answer. Ring. No, it's probably a bill collector. Ring. Ignore it. Ring. 3… 2… 1… Beep. Hey. Bang. It's me… How've you been? I miss you. I haven't seen you in weeks. Call m e sometime. You have the number, right? Okay… I have to go… Love you… Bye… Beep.