"It's done. It's all done. Everything I've worked for, everything I've strived for, every goal I've set for myself, none of it matters anymore." These were the thoughts that were going through his head as he walked down that dark and lonely road with nothing in his hands but the uncertain future and that one photograph. How did this man, the one who was destined to rise high above all the others, let it all fall apart?

He had it all, the weath, the power, the family, and the intelligence to make it all happen, he had it all. No man was his master, no organization dictated his actions, he was his own in mind, body, and soul. He did what was needed to be done, no more, no less. He neither helped, nor did he hurt, he just did what he needed to do. This had worked for the longest time, but this life strategy that protected and built him up would ultimately become the dagger in his back. All he had now was that one photograph and his confusion.

The wife that had accompanied him throughout the last fifteen years of his life is now gone. The woman whose smile could quench even the fiercest rage that bellowed inside of him on those days that life was just too much to handle. The only person on this planet that could console and understand him. "If only she were still here, if only I could speak to her and hold her one last time," was a thought that ran across his mind too many times to count. He knew that there was no comfort in these thoughts, but they came anyways. All he had now was that one photograph and his sadness.

His boy, his sweet, sweet baby boy. He had so much potential in him, with the beautiful pale green eyes of his mother and the face and laugh of his father. The boy was destined for a greatness that no man had known before, for the father was sure of it in the pit of his heart. So many times had he pulled his hair out screaming, "He was here for three years, and now he's gone. How could someone do that to an innocent child such as he? Why would someone do such a thing!" He could scream all he wanted, but all he had now was that one photograph and his rage.

That one photograph was all he had now. All of his money and all of his power were pushed aside and abandoned after that one night. Everything that man had worked for he had thrown away because somebody else had done him wrong. His whole life was destroyed with the pull of a trigger, on that one terrible day in early October. So with the pull of his own trigger he took the life that had ended his, and dashed it all across the white brick walls. All he had now was his one lonely photograph, and his regret.