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How Did We Come To This? By Merit Chigozie

POSTED 09/29/2018 14:57
1563 Reads How Did We Come To This? By Merit Chigozie, short story on Tushstories
Sitting at the river bank close to your home you thought about the plan. The plan you crafted so wonderfully to take your life three weeks ago and how your mother had ruined it. It was perfect, so perfect, nothing would have gone wrong if not for the phone call. The call, you remembered, came from your sister who was married to a police officer, your sister who claimed to see visions, a prayer warrior, a pastor.

You remembered how she cried on the phone telling you not to harm yourself, as you recalled her shrill voice over the phone you slapped yourself, if only you knew your mother was behind the door and that was the rubbish your sister called to say you wouldn't have put the phone on speaker. But you didn't know so you put the phone on speaker and your mother listened. She heard you assuring your sister that you were fine, that you wouldn't do anything stupid and that you wouldn't hurt your mother for any human being let alone a woman who insulted you, a woman who robbed you, a woman who had no sense of value, a sloth, a thief, a heartbreaker, a wicked woman, a witch, an imbecile.

You were never going to take any drastic decision concerning that woman, she wasn't worth it. But you would do something, you would kill yourself, after all who gives all his life and being to a person and is stabbed in the back like this and survives it? No you would take your life. Something nudged you to check the door but you hesitated, you were certain your mother was asleep. Your two hands worked mechanically at the noose while your sister talked on the phone, you had stopped answering her, she was a person that doubted too much, even when you stood before her she would still doubt it was really you. Your mind was made up. There was nothing to live for, you had lost all your money, your hard earned money, you had lost your job, you had lost your dignity as a man, you had lost the love of your life, you had lost all hope, lost all your investment, your savings, everything. Your mother wouldn't get hurt, she would be fine, besides, you had deserted her many years ago, she survived without you, she considered you dead long ago so she wouldn't mind, she would be fine.

But you were sure now that you were wrong. Why did you put that phone on speaker? Why didn't you leave the noose you were working on for later? Why were you so focused that you forgot your mother could be nearby? How did that simple mistake bring you here? Why? How did we come to this? You asked yourself. It was too late anyways, your mother was dead and buried, six feet beneath the ground.

It was just like yesterday, you remembered, how she opened the kitchen door screaming as she saw the noose, how mad you got when you snatched the knife from the cabinet, how loud you lamented about your hopeless state, how you pleaded with her to let you go, how you were determined to take this step, how she slapped you three times and demanded you hand her the knife, how you advanced the knife, how she pushed you, how she struggled with you over the knife, how you both fell down, how you almost succeeded but she wouldn't concur, how you thought you had done it finally but you saw her smiling instead at you, how you screamed and rushed her to the hospital, how she lasted three hours more before she gave up leaving you with last wish "please always be happy my son", how you screamed like a mad dog, how you fought five doctors at once like they were the culprits, how you ran to the police station to turn yourself in but the officers only consoled you and told you to be strong, how you buried your mother with hatred for her, for taking your place and how you ended up alone.

Your sister was there, you knew but you felt like you were in an enclosed water tank filled with water drowning.

Your head ached from thinking too much, you wanted to sever it with your bare hands, you wanted to end it all. You felt trapped, sitting at the river bank, you thought about the plan, the plan you crafted so wonderfully, the perfect plan that left you drowning in misery.

PS: please and please, suicide is never an option no matter what you have been through.

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