Tell me why.

"William Walker sat silently one night and began to think. His feeble attempts to put the events of life in perspective had never born good fruits – mostly green ones – which he had been unable to digest properly. Hope was a fragile, warm, tiny flickering bluish thing hovering above his left shoulder, ready to expire. He was waiting for a miracle, a life-changing episode. However, he was also coming to understand that these things only happen once in a lifetime, and only after all hope is gone. What’s more, it doesn’t happen to everyone, but only to those select few cast by the unseen hand of fate to be life’s main characters. “Figurants don’t get to have epiphanies, Will” – he whispered in the hollow of his bedroom. Then he shot himself in the face, and slid slowly, with a quiet thump, into the space between his bed and a blood-sprinkled window. Later, in the afterlife, William realized that his one mistake had been not being able to recognize the epiphany when he had one."