Moving on forward, stuck in the past, a heavy-loaded mind, a razor blade, electric cables, a turning fan, an open window post, I'll free myself tonight. White pages tainted with red apologies, it'll all be over too soon, just a relapse of my misery, the torment I had been through. Beloved everyone, I bid you all goodbye. Hung, gone, out of my body, finally free. So that was what it looked like to be dead, the burdensome weight had been lifted off, I felt free, light, happy. Gone were the struggles, tiresome revisions, frustrations, longing for something new and better,gone were the days of ranting and nights spent crying, gone were the hardships, all that was left was solace, serenity.
I sat there for a while, watching my lifeless body dangling from the ceiling,finally freed, relieved. It took me days, writing the proper suicide note, to prepare myself for this eventuality, to take away my own life. I sat there contemplating who I was, what I used to be, the life I used to live and how it was full of unspoken atrocities. The door knocked, the silence broke, Junior was calling for me, go away you fool, don't get in here. All the weightlessness I had felt soon turned to a dreadful remorse, utter apprehension- how would he take in this scene of his elder brother hanging off a ceiling? What had I done?
The door opened, in front of me stood my brother, tears running wild, mouth open wide, shaking, paralysed. My glowing soul started turning dark, the sadness and the guilt consuming me more than ever, tainting my luminescence. I ran up to Junior, wanting to hold him within my arms, wanting to dry his tears and console him, tell him it all was a nightmare and he soon would wake next to me, and we'd play catch all over again. The nightmare, I realised, began when my arms passed right through him, when I realised that even though I was stood in front of him, all he could ever see and all he would ever was the haunting scenery of his dead brother hanging from a ceiling. Moments later, he collapsed.
Never had I felt so helpless before, I tried to pick him up but I was no longer existent, flew down the stairs, screamed for help, begging, but I had forgotten that I was no longer existent. Why had I been so weak and given up on such precious people. Junior was on my bedroom floor, he was still breathing, but I knew that from that day onward, he would never be fully him, fully whole, I had killed a part of him, and no matter how much I tried, there was no going back, I was gone for good,for long.
About an hour later, Junior was finally noticed by my father, and so was I, increasing the murder count by one. Junior was woken up by my father, the two shared an anguishing silence at first, until my father walked up to me, rested his head on my feet and cried his heart out, screaming and asking himself why all the time. How could I? I was on the sideline, contemplating the aftermath of my death, a little brother died that day, a father died that day and so did a mother, the suicide of a boy led to the death of an entire family. When mother saw me, she sat down, immobile, not uttering a word, her eyes wide open, unable to comprehend what was going on, she was losing her mind, her beloved son gone.
The three of them sat down at a table that night, my mother silent ever since she saw my corpse, my father and brother discussing about the possible reasons of my suicide, father blaming himself the while long, fighting the tears, putting on a resilient charade. Junior, he, thought it was all his fault, that it was because of his absence, his lack of support that I was gone. I stood on the sidelines again, watching, not being able to tell them that I was weak, it was all my fault, my stupidity. Father, I hoped I would buy you a car with my own salary, mother I wished I would lived longer to buy you some fancy jewelry, Junior, the plans of our houses side by side are in my drawers, please take a look at them. I hoped that I could've been there for you, through your hardships, set-up a business for you. Gone I am now, and sad are you all, dead I am now and dying are you all.
Mother, how I wish you would've fed me one last time, I wish I could've kicked a ball before I died, I wish I could've made things right. All I left behind, my legacy was a broken father, a partly dead brother and a mother who had lost her sanity. I thought suicide was the only way out to deal with my pain, to end all of the sufferings, but it was as if sitting in the pouring rain and expecting not to get drenched. It's not going well academically, financially or life seems hard for any reason, you feel like you won't make it out, don't worry breathe and fight back. This is not your life alone, you have a duty towards your family, and by killing yourself you kill them too.
