"I'm not ready," he whispers, his sweaty fingers quivering against the cold metal.
"No one ever is," hisses his reflection, who raised the gun once more to his skull.
"Please, please," he sobs. "Don't make me do this. I'm not ready to die." His body trembles in fear. He gazes helplessly into the mirror with hollow, gray eyes.
"No one ever is." He tells himself.
Both man and reflection close their eyes. A desperate finger jerks down the trigger. A roaring, echoing bang flies through the house, but they do not hear it. The reflection vanishes as the man crumples to the floor. The gun slips from his hand, sliding a few inches away in a puddle of blood.