Fools Hope
Suicide. So this is how it would end. No great, glorious, dramatic death for me. I stare at the small but fatal leaf of bloodbane in front of me, and then at the man in the corner with a knife to his throat. It’s either eat the leaf and die or let him kill himself and the information that would save the world disappear forever. It’s too bad I won’t get any glorious campfire songs written about me, but if my life is the asking price for the revolution then so be it. With a steady hand I reach for the leaf and lock eyes with this world’s last hope. For a second he looks like he’s going to tell me to stop, to spare myself; but he says nothing, his mouth slightly agape. It was a fools hope I suppose. I watch a tear fall down his face as I place the leaf on my tongue. There will be others, I will not die in vain. This is what I tell myself as my consciousness slips, as I watch the Earth’s savior sanction my death, as the last thing I see is a fools hope.