text: I walk around campus on a busy day, where the streets are flooded with people instead of cars. I wander to find my friends in the hope I find reprieve of the loneliness, but whoever I try to find is missing or long gone. &#x200B; I give up and start walking home, but with no purpose as to why I am going there. What would be better once I got home? Nobody is there, no shows to watch, no games to play, what's the point? Choosing a destination gave me purpose in the moment, so I started off towards a convenience store. I strolled in silence, despite all the bustling around me. Time seemed to move like a movie in fast forward, and I was stuck playing at a normal pace. Everyone had a purpose, a goal, and I was a lone wanderer. I reached the store with no errand, but decided that getting food would at least be an activity that would bring me a short burst of purpose. I got a sandwich from the deli, and as I was walking back toward the register, I caught my reflection off one of the refrigerator doors. &#x200B; I stopped and stared at myself, a ghostly figure in front of sushi and salad. I pulled out a nine millimeter handgun and raised it up. Slowly opening my mouth, I slid the cold metal of the barrel into my mouth. So cold, as if I was the reflection in the fridge. As I slid the barrel toward the back of my mouth, I welcomed death and prepared to leave this Earth. Waiting to pull the trigger, I suddenly heard an echoed voice call out to me. &#x200B; This voice brought me out of the world I was in, and made me realize the cold gun was not real. I was in my own head, living a vision of a swift death for myself. I looked over at the source of the voice to see who pulled me through the ether, and there stood a pretty blonde clad in school spirit. In that moment, I realized what she had said a few seconds earlier. &#x200B; "What are you contemplating?" she asked. It took me a moment, but I realized that her inquiry was not about my dark thoughts, but rather what was behind my reflection. I looked through the fridge door for the first time and saw the food options that it outwardly seemed I was staring at. &#x200B; "Uh, chicken salad or pasta salad", I said hastily to keep up the facade that she believed. I don't know why she asked me the question, but then again I don't know how long I was standing there staring straight ahead and not moving. It could have been minutes, but when does one person ask about another's shopping habits? I truly had no idea but I answered without question. &#x200B; "Chicken salad for sure, too many carbs in pasta", she decided for me. I reached into the fridge and took a package of it, and thanked her after giving a quick chuckle. Once I thanked her, she took off and I didn't see her again. I looked back into the refrigerator door and didn't see myself anymore, the man with a gun that looked like me was gone. I walked toward the register at the exit and with a slight smile purchased my food; my sandwich and the chicken salad.