I knew this was coming, I felt it, I wanted to stop it. But I couldn't, because it wasn't my choice. Ten years have come, and this is the deadline, the final day. No time left.

If only I had remembered the words, maybe I could have saved you. Told you to leave when you could, abandon me, let me stay. Who knows? You might have listened, ran away into the unknown, and we would have never seen each other again.

Instead, you came back, even though you knew it was your doom. Why? It made no sense to me, and it never will, because time is up for both of us. I can already feel myself slipping away, into the fire inside that was trying to claim me. To control me.

I cock the gun in my hands, lift the gleaming white handle, and position the weapon so it will be a clean shot. But it isn't me doing it, it's something controlling me, because I'm already gone. With a loud blast, you fall back, and bleed onto the ground. Within moments, you're dead. And so am I.