AN ATTEMPTED SUICIDE: A FICTION

AN ATTEMPTED SUICIDE: A FICTION
I wasn’t there my mind had wandered off into thoughts. But I could still hear the pastor’s voice on the background like a distant and distinct chatter. It was one of those Sundays, I was catholic but I was invited by my friend to RCCG had to oblige for some reasons. I was really down and I think it was obvious, so she invited me here to make me feel better. I had been depressed for quite long. I had become so dull and pale. I lost reason for life. I thought to myself, “what’s the essence, nobody gets me nobody feels me, I have been deserted by those I thought would stand by me. It always happens that why doesn’t it?" I had attended all sorts of therapy in secret without any one including my parents having any knowledge of it. I had listened to lots of motivational speeches. Still yet nothing to sustain me to keep up with the struggle. After years of hard work, perseverance and consistency. All the stress I had passed through. All the extra effort I had put in. All the midnight candles burnt, yet I was still kicked out of the department. I was among those given the red cord. My dreams of becoming a renowned physiotherapist, shambled. I was not a laughing stock. I have had enough, I thought to myself. I am doing this no more. I decided to take my life after  service that day; I had already mapped out my plan in split second "Anthony! Anthony!, tap him, seems he’s not here”. That was the pastor calling out and simultaneously bringing me back from my sub-conscious.
He instructed that I see him after services.
After service, I met the pastor, he tried counseling me. He tried to give me Succor. I decided to pretended as if I had taken his advice. But he was smarter, he had sent three of his assistants to follow me home without my knowledge.
As I walked home, I had already willed all the money I had left to my friend, the only one left behind. I sent it all to her. I lived in a one-bedroom apartment few metres away from school in a very isolated area. I had deliberately chosen this place in particular because of its tranquil atmosphere. I could relax after the day’s work and also have peace here. But now, it become the perfect avenue for SUICIDE. I still hadn’t find out that I was being followed. I was so busy with my thoughts to notice.
I went into my room. I had all the ‘necessary’ tools to carry out the act. I was like a paitent on life support whose sponsors were finally tired of me being liability. I suffered from severe brain stress from over thinking. After much ado, I brought out  a 10mm thick rope from my closet. I pushed my table to the centre of the room where the ceiling far as a located to enable me reach the fan which was high up in the ceiling. I tied the rope tightly; just enough to go into my neck. I tied the rope to the fan and hung it on my neck. Then I hesitated I thought about my life so far. The more I thought, the more reason I had to take my life without much delay, I slowly pulled myself off the table I had used to support myself. Each step I took, took me one step to unconsciousness. Then just like lightening I felt a force immediately hold me. I thought it was a supernatural being, I had always heard of. I went into unconsciousness. The next time I opened my eyes, my heart was beating, I thought I had finally arrived in a divine place. As I slowly opened my eyes, all I could see was the pastor’s assistant, jumping , praying and sweating, shaking his Bible to the time of his prayer. I closed my eyes again and went into DELIRIUM.
The next time I became conscious, I was in a hospital with my mum. She had rushed to school the very moment she heard of the incident, she was in tears all over. She kept on asking me why I thought of that, she was disappointed I was passing through all this trauma without her knowledge. “you know you’re all I have left after you dad, your sisters are all married. You’re my only son my only treasure on this earth …..” she said admist fears in a sober and cracking voice. I was the only son. My dad had retired as a lecturer. All their hopes rested on me as the only son to take into glory the family name. they had work in school. Yet, I turned out a disappointment. This was my mindset after the results were released. But when my dad heard this , he smiled softly, and said “well, failures will surely come we didn’t expect this from you but I understand. We, who are the ones paying your fees never complained though you never informed us. At a point in my youth, I too went through  this but …..” he continued counseling me. Giving me more and more encouraging words. This came as a surprise because I knew my dad’s type of person. He always detested failure in academics. This development brought into me a sudden force to strive on. My dad, who I respect more than anything else, still believed in me. Yes, my dreams of being a physiotherapist were all gone. But I now knew that I could still make a change.

When I got back myself, after weeks of intense watch and relaxation; one could say sedentary lifestyle, I went back to the faculty and requested that I be given a letter to go the Department of molecular Genetics. Till I saw a circular signed by the provost of the college, that due to the massive failure, those who were able to pass at least 1 out of 3, can still be allowed to step down and try again following year. My Joy knew no bounds, I felt tears trickle down from my eyes. Those were tears of Joy.