The pills hidden in my dresser beckon me, but I promised I wouldnt give in. I'm not sure why I'm keeping this promise when everyone else breaks theirs. 

Today i stare at a picture of my dead mother. Why couldn't she have kept her promise? What she did wasn't fair. She was the center of my universe. Now, the pills pull me to them, the force stronger than before. 

I twist the lid and shimmy two, then three, then four pills into my hand. Placing the lid back on, I hear shuffling in the hallway. I frantically throw them into the back of my throat and swallow. 

Warmth floods my body as I stand behind my family watching television. I look at each of them in turn, then I'm on the floo . No more pain. No more heartache. No more broken promises.