I had decided to let everything go, focus on myself and try to fight the demons that seemed to come at me every night. I am an average achiever and a stupid 17-year-old girl. I am a sucker for love. I’m not sure what I want to do regarding my life. At first I thought psychology but now I want journalism.
For the past few weeks I’ve been going through the most regarding my love life and now I’ve been cooped up in my black-coloured bedroom with Drake ceiling wallpaper, crying my big eyes out, my legs close to my chest for comfort. I’m positive I won’t make it through the night, I don’t think I want to.
Let me tell you how it all started. So, I met this guy, right, through a mutual friend. On 24 June 2021, Ntsika gave his friend Aphelele my number as he needed someone to keep him company. Aphelele told me about this and I had no problem with it. Now that’s how I let that short and ugly guy into my life for seven days to ruin my reputation that I had tried building for five high-school years.
Now I’m afraid of even going outside of class when I’m at school as I’m not comfortable. I can’t interact with people any more. Fear lives in me. I have become a prisoner of an ugly playboy. I have turned into a laughing stock. I am getting stares wherever I go. I am a victim because I slept with a boy the second time I met him. But who cares that I did that? I thought no one did. But look at the frowning and giggling smiles I get today.
I’m so scared of what I’m doing but it’ll deliver me from pain, misery and embarrassment. I just tied a knot the rope I found in the garage. I don’t know if it’s tight but it’ll do. I take it to my room, dragging the kitchen chair in my left hand and the rope in my right. The noise the chair makes is enough to wake up Sylvia Plath from her oven and get her to try to restrategise her suicide.
I put the chair in the middle of the room, wanting to hang the rope on the chandelier. I do so. I toss it around my neck. Wow, it’s a little rough but I’ll manage. This is it. I haven’t written any suicide note but everyone will understand, I hope.
I kick the chair but it just won’t fall because I’m a little tall so now I’m struggling and I kind of regret this but I have to. I want to laugh at my failed attempt and take off this stupid rope on me but just then the chair falls. I can’t believe it. I don’t wanna die! I struggle and struggle and struggle for the last time. It’s over all because of him.
Tell us: Do you think committing suicide is ever a solution?