Sorry for two dark entries in a row.  Maybe it's because school is starting? 

There is no reason for suicide.  "Thou Shalt Not Kill"  means you, too. 

    Alec's door was heavy.  It didn't push very easily.  That wasn't right.  Sandra kept pushing until it gave, with a thud.  She peeked around the door.  Her brother lay on the floor, eyes wide and red.  Foam and spittle flecked his freckled cheeks.  Sandra blinked.  She called his name softly.  Then louder.  A dull buzz filled her ears like cotton.  She screamed.  The carpet felt like potatoes, before you wash them.  She reached out at her brother's face.  He jerked, hard, she jerked, hard.  She lay, crying, on the beige carpet by the white door, by her ashen brother.
    Her mother ran upstairs to see what the trouble was.  Seeing Sandra's legs in the hall, she rushed to the half-open door and took one look in.  In a blink, her phone was out, calling 911.  She gave the dispatcher the address and a brief description of the situation, punctuated by hyperventilation and choked sobs.
    The paramedics arrived in minutes.  The front door opened under their knock, and they sprang upstairs in three bounds.  Alec was breathing irregularly, nonresponsive, elevated heatbeat, definitely overdose.  Induce vomiting?  No.  Open the airway.  Adrenaline shot?  Maybe, in the ambulance.  Secure his head.  Strap him on the stretcher.  Downstairs, outside, into the ambulance, away to the hospital.
    At 5:48, after a good day at the office, the house looked too dark.  That wasn't right.  Suzy is always good about the porchlight, I hope everything's alright.  Ah, the Land Cruiser's gone.  She must be out.  But the light?  Oh well.  Everybody forgets sometimes.  Unlatched?  Now, that certainly isn't right.  Should I call the police?  Just keep the phone out, the gun's upstairs.  No noises.  Nothing missing or damaged.  Hmm.  Ah, a note in the kitchen, next to her phone?  Hmm.

 

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