Shawn got into his car. His eyes are devious, the darkest shade they have ever been, with never ending dimension. He steps on the gas pedal; his mind is blank, at the same time, thinking of everything. He smiles evilly, a plot of his mischievous act, as if demons overtook his body. He drives down the dark street; he has been driving for hours, not aware of the time passing. His eyes search for the correct place, waiting for the perfect moment. He confronted the pole as he sat upright in his car. The iron pole was beckoning him, almost calling his name. He pulled his eyes away from his soon to be suicide, clutching the black-and-white picture of Jamie. Her long hair, his voice calling “Jamie!” Her face turned and the flash, as if on cue, took the perfect candid shot. His fingers dug deep into the slippery photograph. And without hesitation, his leg pushed itself onto the pedal, moving the car and colliding it into the pole.