Your hands usually tremble when you are holding a gun to the face of your own lies. They followed you for life and grew on you till you completely forgot why, when and to whom you were lying to. But the sun has set and this shadow has grown and now is the perfect time when you caught them in form, standing next to you.
The lies stare at you.
Only the weapon in between will break this silence for good. But before you pull the trigger you decide to end it with a dramatic but necessary line.
“I…” you start, but before you can continue they cut you off – “WE.” They say.
It is too late.