The Voicemail

“You have one new message,” the soft robotic voice says, “today, 12:31pm.”

“It’s me…you,” from what you can tell, it’s your own voice on the phone, and you seem to be hysterical. “Now is your only chance. You have to trust me! Nothing is what you think! Go into the closet and open your case. The code is 03-21-58, mom’s birthday.” You seem to stop here and you let out a shuddering breath. You continue, though your speech is broken up with your own wracking sobs, "Take that gun and put it into your mouth and pull the trigger. You must trust me! You are running out of time! I would do anything to be able to make that choice now, but they wont let me! Soon you will — "

“Press one to save, and two to delete.”

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