He sat watch­ing the television.

It wasn't on but that hardly mat­tered since he wouldn't really be able to pay atten­tion to it anyway.

The pills were start­ing to take effect.

It wasn't much, just enough to make him feel just a lit­tle drowsy and woozy.

The world had taken on a bit of a glow­ing haze.

He had just began to real­ize he wasn't able to really focus on anything.

The real­iza­tion that he had passed the point of no return hit him slowly.

He was past the point where, if he called the police right now they would never arrive in time.

The thought was pleas­ing, but he didn't smile.

He had read some­where that peo­ple who left notes were sim­ply cry­ing out for help, but he had left one any­way, not want­ing his fam­ily and friends to live in doubt and wonder.

He wanted them to know why.

Wanted them to know he had sim­ply reached the point where he couldn't deal with any­thing anymore.

Wanted them to know he had sim­ply given up.

He wasn't sure how they would take or deal with it, but it wasn't some­thing he would have to worry about.

So he had the note.

He had pur­chased and taken 2 bot­tles of the pills. It hadn't been easy, espe­cially the last half of the sec­ond bot­tle, it had hurt badly, his throat being raw from all the swallowing.

The room was rented through the end of the month, but he was sure some­one would look for him in a day or two.

If noth­ing else, to find out why he hadn't been to work.

The feel of the room changed again.

It had got­ten darker but the light hadn't changed, almost like the sun had passed behind a cloud.

Slowly he real­ized there were only min­utes left before he wouldn't be able to keep his eyes open any longer.

Not much longer after that and all his wor­ries and prob­lems would cease.

He leaned his head back in the chair, par­tially sur­prised he still had that abil­ity and closed his eyes.

The world swan for just a sec­ond and set­tled in around him.

He took a deep breath.

And let go.

---

He walked steadily down the sidewalk.

He pat­ted his coat pocket to make sure he hadn't left any­thing behind. The tim­ing had to be pre­cise but it helped that he knew exactly where he was going and exactly what to do, after all he had been here and done it before.

Well, HE hadn't actu­ally done it, but it had been done and he had done it.

The cir­cum­stances ran cir­cles in his mind, threat­en­ing to con­fuse him again even though he had a firm grasp on what will and had hap­pened. As he approached the door he reached into his back pocket and removed the room key.

He slipped the plas­tic card into the slot and waited for the door to click.

Care­fully he turned the knob and stopped, glanced at his watch and he waited.

He counted to him­self and when he reached a num­ber that sat­is­fied him, he pushed into the room.

The room wasn't dark, but it wasn't exactly light either.

It reminded him of a sunny day when the sun was behind a cloud.

He again smiled.

Glanc­ing around the room he saw the other sit­ting in the chair by the win­dow just as he remem­bered, the empty pill bot­tles on the night­stand next to him.

Again he pat­ted his coat pocket then, sat­is­fied that every­thing was in place, he reached in and pulled out a syringe.

He removed the cap and held the nee­dle straight up in the air and pushed the plunger, remov­ing all the excess air, just as he had seen in the movies.

Again the smile.

Slowly he walked over to the fig­ure in the chair, pulled up his right sleeve and plunged the nee­dle into his arm.

When it was empty he replaced the cap and stuffed the syringe back into his pocket and waited.

He wasn't impa­tient or ner­vous, he knew what would happen.

It had hap­pened already so there really was very lit­tle mystery.

Slowly the other's eye­lids flut­tered and he woke slowly.

"Wha… where am I?

"Still in the hotel room."

He smiled as the other started at him and squinted try­ing to focus.

"Don't worry," he told the other "every­thing will be fine. "

"I don't want to live!"

"Yes, you do.

You just don't know it yet."

"What hap­pened?"

He laughed to him­self, "I saved you. "

"Who… who are you?"

"No one."

"I'm con­fused."

"Yes, you would be. You won't remem­ber this con­ver­sa­tion for a while, but you will live. Things will change and they will get bet­ter. " he said watch­ing the other strug­gle to grasp hold of real­ity and as the med­ica­tion began to take effect.

"You can't know that. No one can."

"I do. I know it for a fact."

"How?"

"I can't tell you that." he said as he turned his back to the fig­ure in the chair and smiled again.

"I can tell you that Ray will be here in about 10 min­utes and that the drug I gave you will never show up on any tox­i­col­ogy reports.

It will appear to oth­ers as though he arrived in time to save you.

"Ray left this morn­ing for New York."

"No, I can­celled his flight and set it up so that he can't leave until tomor­row. The details are unim­por­tant right now."

He walked over to the door, opened it and started out.

"I don't under­stand!" cried the chair bound figure.

Paus­ing he looked back at him still in the grip of the med­ica­tion he had given him.

"You'll receive a let­ter in about 15 years explain­ing every­thing. It will take you another 5 years to accom­plish your goal."

"How do you know that!"

He reached into his other back pocket and pulled out a worn look­ing envelop, "Because you did."

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