He was afraid to move. He sat on the edge of his bed, frozen. He knew he had to leave but he was afraid of what waited on the other side of the door. How did it all come to this? All of what he knew was in this room. His dresser containing his clothes and the pictures of his wife and daughter reminded him what he was leaving behind. He knew he would never see his family again. How he missed them already. The familiarity of these walls comforted him, soothed him. He wanted to stay in the comfort of what he knew.

He looked over at the door on the other side of the room. Its cracked paint and scuffed brass handle sneered at him. He slid his hand along the edge of the bed wanting to feel the soft plush feel of his comforter. He felt nothing. His imagined his nerves were jabbing him like pins.
He remembered when his daughter was born, what a rush of elation he felt that day. Sweet Amber, he wanted to hold her just one more time. The door rattled and he looked up wide-eyed. He would take a breath if he could; fear had him at the throat.

He thought of Tiffany, his wife of many years. How could he have let this happen, he wondered. She would never understand why he had to leave. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't her, it was him. This was something he had to do. He didn't want to leave, but he had no choice.
He slowly rose to his feet. He neither felt cold nor warm. He could hear the falling rain outside beating against the window. He stared at the window. An opening, an escape. He glanced back at the door, its barrier well meant to intimidate him. He stepped towards the window as the door rattled a little more. He retreated and the rattling stopped.

He knew what he had to do. He moved closer to the door. He stopped. He looked over at the other man in the room. He didn't know the man nor had he ever spoken to him before today, but for some reason he was here. He watched as the man opened drawers letting its contents spill out on to the floor. He wished he had the power to stop him, but he was afraid he couldn't. The man paid no more attention to him. He continued on with his business.

He turned away from the man and proceeded to the door. He stood just inches from the door before turning around for another look. He noticed the watch his wife had given to him for there twelfth wedding anniversary sitting on the dresser. An empty glass she had used earlier that day stood next to the watch.

He watched as the man dressed all in black picked up the watch. He then retrieved the gun that was next to the glass and tucked it in his waistband. He turned away from the man and opened the door. The brightness didn't blind him as he had thought it might have. Without another thought he walked over the threshold, leaving behind all he knew. As he turned to close the door, he gave one last look at his bullet riddled body that lay on the bed. He closed the door.

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