A Call Away from Suicide

It’s been three weeks, five days, twelve hours, twenty minutes and this very second since I last called anyone except my mum and dad. Somehow I ended up borrowing more than I could afford hoping that somehow I will miraculously pay them back. But so far, so bad (it’s not good at all), they have sent numerous reminders and I just stare at it and laugh. Omoh, I am not just broke, I am broker.

School is on strike so there is no one calling me to ask me about lectures, write their name on the attendance list, borrow my note, help explain a topic or even do assignments for them. Somehow I feel I am only visible when they need me. So much for having course mates .

I don’t like being seen as a nerd, bookworm or any of that sort. I just find it really hard to blend in the midst of so many people. Growing up I found it very hard to fit in, so I sought solace in books—a free world of imagination where I get to play numerous characters, improve my grades blablabla

Where was I? Oh yeah. Contemplating my call issue.

(clears throat)

I don’t think anyone really misses me. LOL, don’t worry, when school eventually resumes I will paste my smiling face as they all claim to have missed me.

Yeah, right.

My call log is your witness. My inbox too. Sliding into my DM will probably kill you with misses.

These few weeks made me realize how much I tried to please people, how desperate I was.
It made me notice how invisible I had always been.

When their needs came rising I was the only name that will pop-up and I never said no. I always delivered, got the thanks and that was it. Till next needy season… which never comes so soon.

Do I have friends? Uhmm… I do. Actually, I thought I did

Okay, maybe they are just to busy to put a call across or check up on me; or my DM is too slippery and sliding in could lead to broken bones, fingers, heart and teeth. Let’s cut them some slack

But I know they care right?

Like if I actually died right now, there are people who will cry right?


The funny thing is, I am always the one doing this—the calling, texting. Maybe I didn’t know when I became a burden. Will it hurt for someone else to do that for me? Just this once?

I am quite down now.

Yeah. I’m having one of those mood swing days and something tells me this might be the last.

Before me is a feast of sniper and pills.

Just in case one doesn’t work, the others will. It’s been long coming. I am a sad creature. I’ve had a really sad life.

Mum and dad are divorced. All my life I’ve begged for attention. They both have new partners, leaving me with little options but to find my way.


Okay. Here is how it’s going to work. I am ten minutes away from suicide. My phone is in front of me. I just need someone to ask me how I am? If I am OK? Just one person…

Eight minutes…


As funny as this may seem, I don’t really want to die. There must be something for me to live for right? Someone to look forward to seeing?

Five minutes…

Wow! Not a single soul. I might as well open the sniper bottle and start tasting.

Four minutes…

Ehww, it smells awful.

Three minutes…

Two minutes…

One minute…

Time up…

(phone buzzes. On screen “Alfred YF”

YF—Youth Fellowship

Alfred: Hello

Me: Hello

Alfred: How are you?

Me: I am FINE.

LOL. He dunno. He dunno warris really going on. Haqhaqhaq

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