Transitions
My room is dark. The purity of the silence of the night is shattered by the ringing of the phone. In the blackness I answer the phone to hear a desperate voice at the other end talking about not being able to take it anymore. Instantly I know who it is and I have a vivid picture of where the call is coming from. It is a small room with the bare essentials, but one that serves its purpose well. One that I also know has a shotgun in it. Instant, overwhelming fear grips my soul as I know the meaning of the words just spoken. This isn't the first phone call of this type I had ever gotten. My friends seem to know they can reach out to me in their darkest times. I try to help, I try to offer advice as appropriate, and I try to give a new perspective on their situation... but mostly I listen. Mostly that is all that is needed. Acknowledgment of the feelings and the pain. So I breathe in, mostly for the courage to build to speak the right words to quell the desperateness at the