There is a brief and horrible silence in the moment when you feel yourself loosing control. Control of anything is a precious commodity; and especially control of your life. When your life slips out of your hands, it’s like you’ve been stabbed in the gut with a very cold blade.

But it could be said that Lawrence never really had control of his life in the first place. It had been a big illusion; the final act of a magician’s tricks and turns. And slowly, it crumbed down on his head like a toppling pillar.

Three sleepless nights had set him on edge, and today was the last day he wanted to deal with the person he hated most, his sister and boss: Sandra.

“Morning, “Boss,” Lawrence yawned, his blood shot grey eyes focusing hazily on the woman with long blonde hair that was tired back in a lazy bun.

“Ah…” Sandra’s voice was slow and condescending, “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t bless us with your presence this morning, Mr. Snyder.”

“Cut he bull shit, Sandra,” Lawrence snapped, “You know better than anyone that I haven’t slept in three days because of the crap you’ve been giving us. You should think about what you do before you start playing dirty in the business world.”

Sandra tilted her head, “Listen, Little Lawry. I’m not only your big sister, but also your boss. If you start talking crap, I’ll just fire you.”

Lawrence slammed his hand down on her desk, “I have better credentials than you! I could easily make life hard for you.”

“You’ve been saying that since we were in college.”

“Um.. Mr. Snyder, Ms. Snyder?” a helpless young girl poked her head in the office.

“What, Marci,” both Sandra and Lawrence snapped.

Marci shook as she entered, carrying two cups of coffee, “I made coffee for Ms. Snyder, but I thought you might like some, too, Lawrence.”

“Thank you,” Lawrence smiled kindly as he took one of the mugs from Marci’s frail hands. Then, with a venomous passion ,he hurled it at Sandra’s head. The mug shattered on the wall behind her, and dropped with French latte blood. “I quit bitch. I quit.” He took his long blue coat from the coat rack and slammed the door behind him.

Marci stood whimpering in the middle of the office, still holding one mug of coffee. Sandra looked at her small assistant and smiled, ‘If you don’t mind, I’d still like my latte. Please clean up the mess from my brother’s unsightly stupidity.”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

---

Silence. It was always silent in the apartment on 12th Street. The rain was slow and cold outside and pattered against the window like friendly ghosts.

He had quit. It was as simple as that. Just lost it and quit. Good, good. He wouldn’t have to deal with his bossy big sister anymore.

The gun was cold in his hands. He touched the trigger again and again. Odd, eh had bough the gun for self defense, but it was going to be used for self deliverance. The alarm blared four in the morning. Another sleepless night.

Sleep, that was it. All he wanted was some sleep. A time to close his eyes and disappear. Maybe to dream, maybe to breathe deeply.

He raised the gun to his forehead. The silence was broken for a brief moment and he fell back on the bed, his eyes closed.

He had quit. It was as simple as that. He had quit, and he was finally going to get a lot of sleep.