“I swear man, I didn’t do anything”. He said as they dragged him in through the door.
“That’s him boss, he won’t talk but we found the gun in his coat”. The man holding his arm on the right as he threw the gun on the floor. The flickering dim light give it a dirty yellow glare.
“According to this tour guide right here, there’s about 10 million people in this city and out all of those folks you chose to steal from my little girl”. The big man said as he gently put the pamphlet on his desk as he firmly got up from his big chair.
“It wasn’t me man I swear, you got the wrong guy”. He said as he tries to open his swollen eyes to look at the big man.
“Oh cut the crap kid. I know you live with your ‘grannie’ in 7 and 8th. I also know lil’ Jon got you the gun last sunday.” the big man say as he approached him slowly.
“Kay, okay. I am sorry. I didn’t know she was your kid I swear. Please leave my grannie out of this”. He says as he begins to tremble from seeing the creepy smile the tall men holding his had on their faces.
“Oh, we way past that level son. From now on, your shitty live is about to get from bad to worst”. The big man said as he stood in from of him pulling out what seemed to be his end.
It was all coming back again; the thoughts, the madness, the anxiety, and the stress I’ve been dealing with for these past years. It’s killing me softly. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I wanted to end all of these sufferings with just a click of a gun. I had never been trusted by anyone around me. I was working on my own. Pay the house rent and expenses for school. My family? They all disowned me. My dad never even appreciates all I achieved. All he could see was mistakes and mistakes alone. I worth just a trashcan to them and I don’t deserve this kind of treatment. I deserve to be respected and trusted. They bring me to this world and I never ask them to bring me and just treat me like this.
I had a break up too just ten days ago. This guy just broke up with me because he can’t take the pressure I’m giving into the relationship. Because I had too much problem but I guess it’s not the only reason. Moving on with too much problem is very hard but I am trying my best to do so. I am praying that writing this can help with my depression. I know I’m not the only one having these thoughts. All I could say is fight. We still had ourselves to lean on. People can never understand us. They never would.
People often misunderstood why depressed people took suicide. It wasn’t because we were weak and pathetic human beings. Suicidal people were more than just that. We were hero of our own suffering. In our lives, we were the giver, the most misunderstood and the most mistreated. You don’t know about our story. You just know, that people like us, kill ourselves because we give up on what life could gave to us, or because we were plainly stupid. You didn’t even know what we were going through. Even the cuts in our hands weren’t enough to tell you how we really feel. Everyone has a story to tell and it doesn’t mean that someone was depressed, they were already weak. The truth was we tried. There were always a point in our lives when we regret what we were doing and there were points in our lives when we told ourselves, “We can do it.” But because of some “inconsiderate” and “judgmental” human beings that instead lift us, put as even more into the depths of depression, and because of how the events was turning, we decided to push it through.
Depression wasn’t just because of stress, problems and anxiety. It also covers the emotional and mental state of the person. There were deeper reasons why we kill ourselves and one of those was you. If you wanted us to stop it, then give us a helping hand, support us and understand. We were just an imperfect human being like you. Fighting depression when everyone was contributing nothing was pretty hard. I can compare it to a cancer that once spread in the body, doctors have had harder time to cure it.
That’s how we see suicide. I repeat, we were not pathetic, nor stupid, nor weak. WE were just people with incurable disease. Please stop judging because it wasn’t your life to begin with. Who knows? Maybe at some point in your life you will feel the same? Who knows maybe you’ll understand how we really feel inside and who we really want to be.
Suicidal people weren’t crazy. We were mostly the people who were happy and easy to please with but at the same time, has the biggest regret. We regret how things turn into us and why we can never control it? Why every time the problem was solved, there were even more bigger problems to come. We don’t need your opinions and advises. WE need your ears to listen and eyes to open how “suicidal” people like me cope with idealistic standard of the society.
It was happen to me eight months ago. My friend in the neighborhood asked me my number so that she could call me anytime. We’ve texted for few days talking about some funny things until she started to ask me who I was. I ignored her first text , thinking it was just a prank. The next night, she texted me again asking what’s my name, and because I don’t have time for games, I just ignore it. At exactly eleven that night she called.
“Hello,” I said.
I was surprised when it was not my friend who spoke but a man. He immediately say,
“Hello, who are you?”
Because I started to panic, I just told him that I am the friend of Nisa and I didn’t knew she gave me the wrong number.
He asked where I am and I told him the address of our neighborhood. I asked him if he was Nisa’s cousin but instead of answering me he just say that he was leaving on Luna Street. After I apologize, he hung up the phone.
The next morning, I asked my friend about it. She said that her phone was dead for three days already and she didn’t know what I am talking about. I told her about the guy whom I thought was her cousin but she said that nobody ever touch her phone on the cabinet and there’s no way that a guy will touch it because there were no man in their family. I was shocked entirely but still skeptical. I showed her the caller I.D and her number and she responded if she can charge her phone in my room so I will know how dead her phone was. After that, she showed me all her phone book. No outgoing and inbound call. I’d never understand how was that possible. I try to call her number and it did ring. I scratch my head out of confusion.
Then, she suddenly froze and looked at me. She was trembling when she said this:
“If it’s not me, then it might be papa.”
Well, sadly, he died three months prior through a brutal accident.