UNWRITTEN

I was on the edge. I didn't have a purpose anymore. I was stuck between whether I should just continue living hoping one day everything will change. I was a walking dead. I just wanted to leave this pain. I thought maybe if I just die, it will only hurt once and I will be free. I would be in a place far away from this torture. Everyday I wanted to do it. I couldn't master up the courage.

I had just finished my A level, with my four As. Everyone wanted to be me. But I didn't want to be me. Everyone thought I had it all, but I had nothing at all. I was going to study acturial science at the University of Zimbabwe. Everything was going well, well everything except me. It was that Saturday, my friends were so excited that we were starting that Monday. I was anything but excited. But of course I had to sound excited with them because who was not excited to start university. That muggy Saturday morning, I went to town with my sister. I went to get my hair done. I went to get my nails done. I had dyed my hair blond. A dark kind of blond. I looked in the mirror and I was satisfied. My locs looked really good on me especially with that color. My nails, well I had like some from Pinterest and chose my pick there. I was ready. But I was suffocating. I couldn't breathe,  i was stuck between what was good and bad for me. There was a voice inside of me burning, hurt. It was a pain like no other. Throughout my A level break, I had been writing some poems to shake of my mood. I was writing how I felt, at first it worked. At first It did shake off those nagging feelings. But it stopped. It made everything worse. But I didn't stop writing. My writing started to change. It all began to be of death. I started writing of escape and death. To be alone. It was saddening because I couldn't talk to anyone. My family did not understand me. They made me this way. I never showed anyone my writing. I knew they would just turn the story and it would be my fault. I remember that Saturday morning, on my way to town i wrote this poem 'wait'. I was telling myself to wait and escape. We were now on our way to the terminus. The traffic was at it's peak. We were crossing, the green light suddenly changed to red. My sister hurried to the other side. But I stood there. Suddenly I had mastered the courage. I wanted to live. But I stood there.

Rutendo, " Move!"

I looked her way. And ignored her yell. The cars honked for me to move. I started to move ,I had a full proof plan I would stop when the drivers least expect it. I moved and the cars started moving.

I suddenly stopped. And the driver stepped on his brakes but I was too near. So he hit me. And there was nothing.

.............

I was hurried to the Parirenyatwa Emergency centre. I was unconscious. For a moment there I thought I was dead. But I was in a place of nowhere, with nothing, just me. I had an emergency surgery, i was stable. I was put in the Intensive Care Unit. My parents arrived moments before the surgery was over.

The Medical Doctor got out of the emergency room and went to my parents and sister.

" She is now in a stable condition. "

" Thank you doctor."

" When can we see her?"

" She will be awake soon and you can see her then."

I wanted to open my eyes but they felt so heavy. I wanted to Open my mouth, but it felt so painful. I realized that this pain, was the pain of my failed suicide. Why did I not just die? All I wanted was to die, and I couldn't even have that. I opened my eyes some time later. And the nurse called in for the Doctor, " She is awake!" The doctor rushed over to me, with a gang of other medical people. The did some examinations on me. They told my family that they

were set to see me. I didn't want to see them. But noone cared to ask me, what I wanted. I knew they would just make this about themselves. That I was so inconsiderate and the likes. They approached me. I looked away from them. I didn't have anything to say. Because when I did they never gave me a chance to say it. And when they did, they would just tell me how terrible I am as a person.

" Why?"

As if they had rehearsed it, my parents hissed at the same time. They didn't care if I was ok. They didn't want to know how I was feeling. They wanted to know why I wanted to escape this madness of a family. I searched on their faces for some sympathy but no. All they was was fury and everything else but sympathy. I managed to produce a sound 'mmm'. And looked away again. " I don't want to see you, or talk to you," i turned to my sister, " and you, why did you save me. Did you not see I did that on purpose? Couldn't you just let me have one thing for once? I cannot even die in peace?"

I closed my eyes. And I could hear them move out. I was in immense pain. And it gave me a hope that I would die. That I would not last five days in there. And would find my peace. That my little plot would have worked out.

I eventually fell asleep. I woke up to the noises from the nurses. I opened my eyes slowly. The doctor came and examined me. He muttered the words I feared the most, " It's a miracle, she is out of danger. She just needs to rest and recover and she will be back kicking."

Was dying that hard? I should have gone with the poison? I should have hung myself? But it was all too late now. I had failed. I had to live the rest of my miserable life with them, questioning me and making me regret my poor calculation of things that Saturday.

It was now Monday, I was now in the female ward. We were four in that ward. A lady maybe in her Forty's, i overheard the nurses and figured she had some kind of cancer. Probably the blood cancer. She had been injecting herself with some kind of bleaching substance. And well the rest is history. She was now like this. Just because she wanted to be lighter in complexion. It never made sense but who was i to judge. I had just gotten myself hit by a car. I was not better than she was. She was was a beautiful woman. Her voice was kind and soothing. She was easy to talk to. And she had made herself a prey of society's beauty standards. She was always smiling, but you could see a pain in that smile. A regret of some sort. I bet she wondered if she had done things differently, would she be happy? Mai Moyo was her name. She was on a bed next to mine, and so naturally we chatted. But she had to go for her chemo, and she testified it was immensely painful. Opposite of me, they was a young girl. Probably twelve or less. She had heart problems. She was born with a little hole in her heart. She couldn't do vigorous activities but as a kid she wanted to do that. She was not in the hospital because she made a silly decision or what. She had fainted at school that week, and so she was hospitalized, waiting for her breakthrough, her surgery. A highly skilled doctor from Singapore was going to operate her. He was going to arrive that Tuesday. She, Tariro would go into surgery the next day. Her mother would visit her and pray. She would tell her she was going to make it. But her surgery was a fifty/fifty. But she had to make it. Her father, had left her mother, Mai Tariro for a Younger woman. A single mother, and her last child. It seems like misfortune was her name, Mai Tariro. Her two big siblings had died from thd at same heart problem. She always wished she had known it sooner, then maybe she could have saved them. Tariro had to survive because she was all she had, otherwise she would really lose it all. It made me wonder, why I was going to waste and still regretting I didn't lose something someone or some people are fighting for. Was I the definition of insanity? I knew she was going to make it, she had to. I made a silent prayer that Monday, I prayed God would make her survive. I promised God if she did, I would do something for him. I would quit this suicide act I was putting up. Tariro was a girl of average height, a duplicate of her mother. From the Chocolate skin, the cat eyes, even the way they talked. They had the same teeth as me, the crooked and misaligned teeth. I wondered why misfortune was follow such a beautiful woman. Next to Tariro, was an old gogo. I guessed she was here because of old age. Her children came to visit with their own children. They loved her and she loved them too. She was a kind grandmother, she had a certain way of talking. A certainly smart way. She had this thing which she did, she made you feel less alone. She always knew she was not going to make it out alive. " I am already ninety," she would remark. " I think I have lived long enough." And she never made it to Friday. She died right there. Infront of my eyes. I could see her becoming lifeless. But she died happy. Her face was peaceful. I wondered if I had died that day. Would I be this peaceful?

Next to gogo, was this young lady. Probably in her late twenties. She had survived a tragic car crush that took her brother and husband. They were coming from a wedding of some sort. The truck driver was speeding and it was already too late when they tried to sway out of the way. She was not hurt but went to shock. Everything was made worse when she became aware of her loss. Her family would come and pray with her. They would tell her that God sees her. We started to engage with her. She  told us about her son. How much he had loved his dad and uncle. But she never really lost hope. She was just devastated, but they was always a fire in her eyes. She wanted to survive. She wanted to live for her son. She, Maria was light in complexion, almost as light as I am. However, slightly less. She had a small face with big features. She looked like she just came out of a movie. She had a voice however, so stuffy. I never wanted to share my story with them. I just told them I was hit by a car while crossing the road near Joina City. It had been, now three days in the hospital. My family never came. Honestly I never cared. I want to be alone. But the ward mates began to ask me questions. It made me wonder. Was I too harsh? Or they never cared enough?

Was I used to playing the victim all the time? Many questions bombarded my head. I couldn't breathe. I was suffocating. I didn't realize it but I was crying. I didn't want to be alone. As if they had known what I was thinking my parents and siblings came in. This time kuziva, Innocent and the little one Cj had came along. Cj approached my bed first. I couldn't help it but when I saw him, my heart ached. I had been so selfish. I never thought about how they would feel when I decided to get hit by a car. He was holding a yoghurt, i guessed it was meant for me but he always got what he wanted. My other siblings got in and asked how I was and all. We chatted for a while and they were excused. They returned to the car. I knew now those questions were about to be asked. I was not running away this time. I was not avoiding. I wanted to be heard.

My parents and Rutendo sat by my bed. This time on their faces I couldn't see rage. I could see a pain so different. A pain for me not for them. Who were these people and what happened to my family.

" How are you?"

My mother broke the awkward silence. I scanned their faces one more time. " I am good thanks, how are you?"

" Not physically, how are you really? How have you been lately? I am sorry it took almost your death to ask these." I stared at her. I kept on swallowing my saliva. I was trying to hold it in. I knew if I start talking i would cry. I wanted to keep my cool. I wanted to tell them everything that was on my mind. How much I hated being around them. But I never really hated them. I just wanted to be seen, heard and loved. I started crying. I couldn't hold it in anymore. It was all the tears I had held in for a long time. They let me cry. And when I felt I was ready, i cleared my throat, " I am not fine. I was never ok."

"Why?" They were asking me that. For a change I was going to be heard.

" I am outside looking in. I don't fit in your happy family. I tried, i really did. I had the perfect grades. I did my chores, I never ever was caught in any mischief because I never did any. All I wanted was your recognition. All I wanted was to be told 'good job', 'well done". Instead all I got was, ' you don't understand', " you are a bad daughter" and the likes. At first I used to write poems about it and it would wear off. But I couldn't anymore. Those suicidal thoughts, I have had them for a while. I never really mastered the courage to do it. But when I was crossing the road. Everything seemed easy and possibly. It was as if something told me if I crossed, i would never have another chance." I continued to talk and talk, and they never once interrupted me. Whilst my father maintained his composure, I saw pain In his eyes, on his face. Maybe I was the only one who noticed these things that have been haunting me. I guess I had been too harsh with my words, my mother could not take It anymore. she started crying. I wondered if she was crying for me or herself.

"Why couldn't you just talk to us?"

Now they ask that. I gave them a soft chuckle, "Hmmm, did you ever give me a chance for that?"

My parents did not argue with me. They only agreed with me. They told me they would pay attention to me a little more. They would understand that I was a little sensitive to words and things than they anticipated.

I had not switched on my phone since the failed suicide. My friends were probably trying to reach me. I had already missed the orientation. That Saturday I was discharged. It was a miracle that I could walk properly. I was supposed to stay at a girls boardinghouse, near the University. My parents were reluctant to let me stay there alone, now it was especially worse after that suicide stunt. They talked to my therapist aunt. She was a slay aunt. Single, tall with that model figure. She was light in complexion and especially liked her lips red. They wanted her to see through me, to help me realize that this was a second chance at life. For if all things were equal that day, i would never had made it out alive. I was happy to stay with her.

............

My sister, Rutendo she never said anything to me. She was always quiet, which was unlike of her. She was always a talkative person, especially with me. We had been sisters but we had also been friends. She knew everything about me, and so did I about her. She must have felt betrayed and guilty. She had always been the beautiful sister I admired. She was not light like I am. She had this chocolate skin.  Her eyes were like mine but a little bit excessive on the cat eyes. She always had her spectacles on. She always had this beautiful smile on her. But lately I never saw her smile. She never spoke. I suspect she was always thinking that what if I had died on her watch. It made me wonder if I was the villain In this story. I never cared how much she had felt seeing me hit like that. I never thought how she must have been so worried and shocked. And she was only a child as I was. I never thought about how she rushed me to the hospital despite it all. To add on it I was very rude to her at the hospital. I had blamed her for being a good person and saving me. "I am sorry!" I sighed as I muttered that. It was only her and I in the room. She said nothing back. She only managed to look my way. I didn't blame her if she didn't want to talk to me " i am sorry, I made you go through a nightmare. I was selfish and I cannot justify what I said at the hospital. I hope you will find it someday to forgive me."

She walked towards me and sat next to me. She cleared her throat, " I am not angry with you. You scared the hell out of me. Why couldn't you just talk to me. Did you also think I wouldn't understand. We talk about everything, so why not this?"

" I am sorry, I will get my act together. I promise." We chatted until Kuziva got into the room. She had just gotten back from school. She was devastated by the news. She had always been the goofy of us all. Always talkative and never out of her school tales. She was slightly shorter than I was. She looked like Rutendo and I, She had a chocolate skin but not like Rutendo's she had that of a lighter chocolate skin. She never asked me about the accident. She started telling me about her friends and school. She was telling me to help her study for she was in her final year for the O level examinations.

The following morning,neighbors came to see how I was doing. Noone seemed to question my failed suicide. I was glad about that. I didn't want to talk about it.

My young brother, Innocent he had also just came back from school. He seemed to not understand of the situation. He continued his daily routine and was out that very morning to play with his friends. Honestly I was relieved that I hadn't disrupted his life like I had done to others.

Cj the youngest of us all. He was such a bundle of joy. A chaotic bundle of joy at that. I never expected him to understand anything, he was only turning four the coming November. He was all over me as usual. Just seeing him made me want to cry. Why did he never cross my mind that time? Why didn't I think of him if not anyone else? Why was I such a careless and reckless big sister.

I finally switched on my phone. Many messages and missed calls. My friends were wondering why I hadn't come to school yet. And why I was suddenly off the grid.