Five minutes, thirty-six seconds.

It's all the time I've got to make a decision which could be the most important decision I've ever made in my long, long life. Could be the most important decision that any of us has ever made. It shouldn't be me making it. I don't have that kind of authority, moral or otherwise. But here I am.

She's sitting across from me, in a dim, hazy room lit by a single overhead light. Dark brown hair, brilliant silver eyes, young. Just a little girl. Way too young for the knowing look in those eyes.

The light squeaks slightly on its mounting in the ceiling as it moves slowly back and forth, shadows crawling around the crates in the warehouse. She looks me straight in the eye, calm, accepting of her fate. A ship's foghorn sounds as a bell dings, out in the harbour.

The cold steel of the pistol in my hand provides empty comfort tonight, leeching my warmth. The girl crosses her arms, and re-crosses her legs, and looks me in the eye still. Waiting.

I feel a drop of sweat make its way down my back, and I am still no closer to the damnable decision.

It's like she can hear the gears turning in my mind. A raised eyebrow... a slight smile. Daring me to say no, knowing I won't.

Less than four minutes now. Tick... tock... tick... tock...

How did it come to this? What's happened to me?

Let us start at the beginning of this mess, I suppose. Maybe a pattern will emerge from the chaos, and my decision will be made.

Maybe.