Life or death. There isn't anything less complicated than that. Unless it is choosing how you die. Most often than not you don't even think about it, but today you do. There is the revolver lying on the table. You would have chosen a better way to it but today you have no choice. You think of the mess it will leave for your family to clean up and wish again that you never made this deal.
You look around the room at the hooded 12. They stand there as the silent witness and most likely one of them will finish you off if you can't manage to pull that trigger. Again you wish it could be something kinder like pills that make you go to sleep and don't let you wake up. Even criminals get that much.
You pick up the gun and study the shiny black metal and for the first time in your life you realize that the design of the piece is beautiful. And here even the weight seems different as if to say …stop and think about what you are doing.
The twelve have started to chant. You think once more about family you are about to leave behind and wonder if they will understand the decision you made. You hope so because only that would make it senseless. You take a deep breath knowing that you are procrastinating.
The metal is cold as the barrel enters your mouth. A giggle escapes as you think about the spit that is running down the barrel. You think to yourself 'you can do this.' A thought, a silent goodbye and you pull the trigger.
You pull the barrel from your mouth in confusion.
"Congratulations, child you have passed the test."
You reel in confusion. Test? You were supposed to die. If this was the test maybe it was better you had died, because what was next was bound to be hell on earth.