How, he didn't know. When, he didn't know. He only knew this was it. Life had brought him this low. It was time to take the final step.

Seth Fraser was standing right outside the front door of the house full of friends, very late at night. None of them knew he was here yet, but they would. They would know. All he would have to do was pull the trigger.

And then, suddenly, the doorbell rang. He looked down at his left hand. Did he do that? There was no one else here to do it except him, so it must have been. That didn't matter, though. He didn't need to care about that. He wouldn't have to care about anything if he just-

"Seth, don't do it!"

He opened his eyes. He hadn't even realized he had closed them. There, the door was open, and in it stood his friend Brock.

"Seth. Don't do it."

Just then, two more of his friends showed up, Vince and his girlfriend Liz, both looking heavy-lidded.

"Brock? What is going- " Vince started saying sleepily. Then, both of them stopped abruptly. Liz gasped. Vince drew them aside. All this time, even though Seth's blank stare had wandered, Brock's clear vision had not. They were still focused right on the sweaty, shaking pistol Seth had to his head.

"Seth. Don't do it." This was the third time. What, was his record scratched?

"Don't do it? That's all you have for me?" His voice was weak and very hoarse, and yet it was like screaming the way he said it. His face indicated desperateness, loneliness, and worst of all, a loss. "Do you know what has been going on in my life? Have you been paying attention to the train wreck that is my life? There's no reason for me not to do it; I have the gun right here at my head. Give me one single reason why I shouldn't just end everything that is me right now!"

He was shaking hard now. He was drenched in sweat now. All three people standing in the doorway were panicked, and Seth knew it. Any moment now, he could just... die. But for some reason, even though his means were right there, he couldn't do it. What was keeping him? Fear? He wouldn't have to worry about fear if he just killed himself. No more problems. Just pull it. Pull the trigger.

"Well? You haven't answered me!" He knew he didn't want to, but what else was there? He was going to do it. Even though he was crying now, he could still see his three friends right there watching him. "Can you not give me anything? Is there nothing left for me? Nothing in this entire world, not one thing, that you can offer as a reason for me not to kill myself and end all my miserable suffering?"

And then, there was complete silence. Seth stopped shaking. He stopped crying. That's funny, he thought with an empty chuckle. There was no bang of the gun.

Then he realized it was because he hadn't shot the gun; it was still pressed firmly to his head. Waiting. But he wasn't focused on that. With his free arm, he wiped his eyes off and focused on his friends again.

There was a fourth shape. As he adjusted his eyes, he realized it was another person.

Her. It was her. It was Aveva, and her gaze was angelic.

"Seth. Don't do it. Please."

This was it. This was his reason, his perfect, beautiful reason for staying alive in this world. And as he looked back again at his other friends, he counted three other reasons for living. He still had friends. Whatever his lot, he still had friends.

"Seth. Please, listen to me. I'm right here." She was making perfect eye contact with him the whole time. And her tone was shaking too. "I'm going to step towards you, Seth."

"You don't know what you're doing." Seth rammed the gun against him again as she took one step down from the two-step stairway from the front door. "Don't come near me."

"I know exactly what I'm doing." Aveva took a second step. She was halfway there. "Seth. Please. Put down the pistol, and I swear everything will be alright."

And then she took that third step.

"DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!" Seth shouted at the top of his lungs, somehow managing to find his voice. Brock, Vince, and Liz all gasped again, Liz grabbing Vince tightly. Aveva didn't flinch at all. She just took a deep breath, waited just the briefest second, then let it out.

Perfect silence again.

"Seth." That word again; his name. Oh, how he loved her saying that. "Seth. Listen to me."

She took the fourth step. She was right there. Face to face with a man with a gun to his own head. Face to face with the guy she loved more than anyone in the world, one who shared that love. She knew it. And she knew he was this close to losing it all.

"There's something I need to ask of you." Her voice had lost its tremble. Everything seemed calm, serene and glorious in this moment of raw tension.

"Seth, will you marry me?"

Gunshot.

Seth could barely see three figures drop to the ground in the back of his vision. Everything else was focused squarely on his love; his perfect, beautiful, darling Aveva. And then, he looked at his right hand.

The gun was smoking, facing directly upwards. He hadn't shot himself.

He looked back. He looked back at her. This was his life now.

"Yes."

She smiled, gently grabbed the gun, and put it down on the sidewalk. Then, kissing him, she whispered, "Let's go inside."

As they walked by Brock, Vince, and Liz, there was yet another moment of incredible peace. Somehow, through it all, he had made it.

Brock stepped outside, followed hastily by the other two. Better leave those two to themselves. Brock went over and picked up the gun. It was still hot. He marveled; was a gun really capable of this? It seemed a stupid question, but when he thought about it, it made sense to him. A gun; an ordinary pistol. This is what it could do. He shuddered with the thought just as two people rushed up to him in their pajamas. They were shuddering with cold, and their faces were illuminated by the street light. It was the only light outside on this pitch black night.

"I heard a shot, I think," said the man, aged probably fifty or so. "Is everything alright?"

"Should I call the police?" A woman who had come from the other side of the street asked.

Brock stood there contemplating this for a moment. After a moment, yet another moment, he shook his head. "No, don't call. Everything is fine now."

The man and woman exchanged a hasty look. The man's eyes went back to Brock. "Well... what happened?"

It was a simple, powerful, and concise answer from Brock that laid the night to true rest at last: "Well, sir, a man tried to kill himself tonight. And by the grace of GOD, a woman saved him. Would you like to come to the wedding?"

THE END.