Andy.
It was so quick.
I placed my hand over his heart and stroked his head when the doctor gave the injection.
His heartbeat, faint but steady... stopped.
A few seconds. That's all it took.
I've lost Andy forever now.
I didn't think he wanted to go.
But I had to take matters into my own hands or he'll die slowly in the hospital, or go through seizure after seizure at home and be racked with pain.

Oh God ... why did you have to turn me into a murderer.

It was so easy. It was almost nothing.
But what did I do?
I just put an end to the life of a close companion who has been with me faithfully since I was 9. Quiet but dutiful, he took turns everyday.. everyday to accompany each of us. Every night, he'll trod to my room and take up his sleeping place; every morning, he'll go to bro's room, and then to mum's room. I loved his presence more than I realize.
Why does it always have to take a tragedy before we can love more, and love unabashedly?