If Only It Was This Simple

Desperate times call for desperate measures, he thought as he placed the gun to his head. There was no turning back now.

“Get out!” he shouted. Sweat poured down over his face and neck. His finger itched against the trigger. “I’m not kidding. I’m giving you to the count of three. One. Two. Thr—”

A tiny worm crawled out the ear opposite the side the gun was on. It fell to the floor with a squishy thud.

It was the thoughts of that girl that had burrowed itself so deeply in his brain. Without remorse he crushed it with his heel.