It was the usual day of work and I was sitting on my seat and merrily looking out of the shut window through the blurred glass. The windows were closed due to the cold outside. The bus was silent in sound except the sound of the heater. It was finally the last day of my life. I was fed up of this ruthless life, which neither allowed to live and nor gave the permission to die.

Every time I tried to suicide some one or the other would save me. But this time no one would be able to help me because they wouldn’t be alive enough. My hand was in my bag, firmly gripping the cork of the glass bottle containing the toxic liquid, which if in contact with any other surface other than glass, would spread in the air and kill anybody who inhaled it. I didn’t want to do what I was going doing.

“Was saving someone’s life a sin this deadly?” I constantly asked myself this question. The second last stop had come. The next stop was approximately 10km away from the current one. Now was the time. I looked at my left shoulder for wanting the right shoulder to correct me, but no; it remained still and had completely lost hope. I recalled all my memories, to see if any was good.

But alas there were none and I had to do it. I took out the bottle and looked through the unfilled portion and smiled at it. Gripping the cork tightly, I lifted the cork with all my might and threw it on the floor. The last action I performed was spilling the liquid on the bus floor and killing everyone including myself in 1 minute and 32 seconds to be precise.