Bang.

She reached for the gun in the bureau and with the slightest movement, the trigger was released. Before she could even realize the damage she has done, a burst of colors presented themselves. Dancing with the smoke. Lingering with the stench of burnt hope. The ringing in her ears settled as the pounding of her heart rested its weary contractions. The distinct odor of gunpowder and fear has gotten too strong to bear. Stinging her eyes and singeing her tear ducts. Never again she thought. Never again. Her body jolted and her surroundings faded into blackness. Then rebuilding itself blur by blur. The gun was still in the bureau, as she had left it, and the warm companion still tangled in the sheets next to her, as she had left him.