It was a bitter, freezing night. Mr. Stevenson was finished up the massive stack of final exams spread across his large hickory desk. After a long day of administering final exams and dealing
with eager college kids ready to make their way home, he was ready to head home and grab his special bottle and pass out on the couch. But tonight was different. Tonight was the night his wife and three
kids were brutally murdered by a home invader. The man was finally caught and given justice but that wasn't enough for Mr. Stevenson. Since then he has descended into a deep depression, took up drinking
and frequently ran into trouble with the police. Tonight, with all the pressure of work, grading and this tragic life changing event that has forever altered his entire personality, something snapped inside his head.
In a aggressive maniacal rage he tossed all his papers from the desk, broke his red pen in half and threw his favorite coffee mug made by his son had made him in second grade against the wall shattering into
hundreds of pieces. He stormed out his door, pushed the elderly janitor cleaning the floors to the ground and raced out the building. He jumped into his car, reached under the seat and grabbed a bottle of liquor
and quickly guzzled it down with ease. Within minutes, his thoughts became filled with alcoholic influenced ideas. He stumbled to turn on the ignition and then wildly sped out of the parking lot hitting the poor
janitor's old hatchback he could barely afford. It didn't take but a minute for Mr. Stevenson to be pulled over by a local Sheriff's Deputy. Noticing the car having previously pulled it over, the officer walked
up to the window. He asked Mr. Stevenson to step out of the car because he could tell he had been drinking heavily. But, this time was different. Something snapped again in Mr. Stevenson. He quickly pulled
a small handgun he kept for protection under his sit and pointed it at the officer. The officer put his hands up and tried to cajole Mr. Stevenson out of the situation by letting him know he didn't have to do this,
and that everything would be okay. But it was too late. Mr. Stevenson knew he had reached a point where he couldn't turn back. With tears in his eyes he slowly turned the gun upon himself. The officer
realized what was happening and in a quick effort lept for the gun. But it was too late. In the struggle of the officer trying to take the gun Mr. Stevenson had pulled the trigger, instantly ending his life.
Maybe now, he will be able to see his family.