Chapter 1
As I sat on the edge of the bed staring at the light blue wall in my bedroom. My right hand was wrapped tightly around my 9mm handgun handle. The cold barrel was touching my right temple as my hands trembled. “I should pull the trigger” I thought to myself. Repeating those words over and over. I sat there. Wanting to end it all but still I had a tiny fraction of faith left.“Could things get better?” I thought to myself. Never lowering the barrel from my head. Staring blankly at my wall, I thought about my faith. How my faith had gotten me this far already.
At thirty one years old, others see me as a very accomplished women. I work for one of the best law firms in all of Georgia, Mills & Baker Firm . I was told I am on track to being named as one of the youngest partners in the firm. I’ve also been told that I am an attractive women. Put it like this, as a black women I’ve never had any issue attracting men of every ethnicity. Or women for that matter. I stand 5’10”, long black wavy hair that hangs to my lower back. My skin is caramel complexion with nice full lips and curves for days. I have light brown eyes that seems to get everyones attention. Despite what most people see as having nothing to be sad about that’s furthest from the truth.
I live in a high rise condo in the Buckhead community of Atlanta. I live on the seventeenth floor with amazing views of the city. A three thousand square foot modern condo just for myself and my Yorkshire Terrier Bella. Maybe my loneliness has brought me to this point. It could be the mental and spiritual beating my soul has endured by this world. Or maybe I’m just tired. Tired of living in this evil world. I see everyday what people will do to get money or keep it working as a civil attorney. I had a case where a young man who just turned twenty one was killed working at a plant. Their was no sympathy from the company. No care that he was a single father raising two girls own his own. They only cared about their bottom line. The company would not even pay for the funeral expenses. They thought it would show liability by helping bury the young man who died working on their machinery. Where is the compassion in this world?
I bring myself back to reality, still holding the gun. I burst into tears as a place the hand gun on the dresser next to the bed. My depression has the best of me. I don’t know what to do to make it better. As my tears stream down my face my thoughts continue to plague me. As a christian, I’ve also had faith that God would pull me through my dark days. Now I am questioning my own faith. I’ve dealt with depression since I was in middle school. I kept telling myself that things would get better. That I would get to the point of just genuinely being happy with myself and the life I have. At thirty one however, I still have not reached the level of joy that I need in this world. “Will I every be happy?” I said out loud to myself as tears ran down my face looking at the 9mm I recently placed on the dresser.
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the ringing of my phone. I decided to let it go to voicemail. More than likely it’s one of my friends calling to vent about something that happened to them. The fact that I’m always there for those I love has isolated me even more. Everyone comes to me to talk out their problem but who am I suppose to turn to when I’m the one who needs the support? I have to pay a therapist to get my thoughts out. That hasn’t seemed to work this time around. I laid back in my bed. Wiping the tears away. I stared at the fan on my ceiling. Just watching it go around. I whispered to myself, “I hate my life”.
I started to question everything again. “why am I here?” I thought. They say everyone has a purpose but do we really? What if there is not meaning to this thing called life. What if my faith that things will get better doesn’t ever happen. Am I expected to live my life in misery because everyone else thinks life is precious? Everyone says life is short. But let’s be real. If I lived to the life expectancy of an American women I would be on this earth for 78 years. That’s a long time to be depressed and miserable. That little piece of faith still in me wanted to believe it could get better. My phone started to ring again. I have no interest in picking it up. “I should do it” I said out loud. I stared at the gun resting beside the bed. Thinking to myself, “what if it doesn’t get better? How will I cope?”
My favorite ringtone pulled me out of my trans. It was my niece Tami calling. I loved my niece. Even though I lived in Georgia and she lived in California, it didn’t stop us from talking often. She is a bright, loving, and caring six year old little girl. She can be a little spoiled at times but that’s because I give her whatever she wants. Tami will sneak and get her mothers phone to FaceTime at least once a week. Her mother being my older sister Janet. We are seven years apart which has caused us not to be as close as i’d like. The birth of my niece helped bring us closer. Being her only Aunt, I always wanted to be a part of her life. I let the phone go to voicemail. I heard the notification for a voice message.
Despite wanting to end it all. I have to listen to whatever message Tami left for me. Even if it was for the last time. I slowly picked myself up out of the bed to reach my phone in the living room. I walked slowing. My feet felt heavy and my chest was also. The pain of depression is just as physical as it is mental. I reached my phone sitting on the edge of my brown leather couch. I had three missed calls. Two calls from my father and one from my niece. “What does my dad want?” I thought. My dad was always flying around the world for business. He is very successful with his own Investment company with more than three hundred million in capitol. I usually hear from him every few weeks. That is if he isn’t too busy globe trotting with one of his many mistresses.
I decided to listen to my nieces voice mail first. I stretched out on the couch. Eyes still heavy from crying. I pressed the play button on my phone. “Hi Auntie Karmen! I just wanted to tell you that I missed you and love you! Oh yeah, I got another A on my spelling test today! Mom said I had to go to bed soon so I’ll call back tomorrow! bye!” I smiled while listening to how sweet and excited she was. I started to think about how it might affect her. Would my niece understand that by me taking my own life had nothing to do with her? Then again she is still very young. Maybe as the years go by she wont even remember me. She is young, it is a possibility right? The thought of not seeing her grow up brought back tears to my eyes. Tami is the light in my dark world. The genuine love that comes from a child is pure and innocent. Something I don’t have a lot of in my life. I’ve always wanted to have kids one day. At this point in my life, I think the love of my own child would be enough to take me off this ledge. The reality is I don’t have any one that depends on me. I don’t have a spouse or a child to give my love to.
The sad part is I have a lot of love to give. Did I miss my only chance? I thought I was close to starting a family with my ex fiancé Vinny. He is 6’3” with a solid build. Vinny is half Italian and half black with a light brown complexion. His thick chin strap with goatee beard was always on point. Just the way I liked it. He has a way with words. Maybe a little too good. We met shortly after I graduated from Duke University school of law. I had just moved to Atlanta to work at my first law firm. He was a senior attorney at one of our rival firms. I didn’t care however. Work is work and personal life are two totally different things in my book. I was twenty five and longing for love. He was my night in shining armor. He made me feel loved and desired. We both worked in the same high rise building in Midtown Atlanta. I would hear his name casually by associates in the office about how good he was. The women in the office would chit chat about how sexy he looked arguing his cases in open court. They would joke, “What jury full of women wouldn’t take his side? Hell I would if I was on the jury” I can’t deny that he is a damn good lawyer!
When I first started working there I would see Vinny in the lobby sometimes. He usually had a flirty woman in his face every time I would see him. I admit I thought he was fine! I never had a shortage of men who approached me. I was use to men pursuing me and I never saw the appeal in approaching a man. I figure if a man wants you he will go after you. If he doesn’t, is that the man you really want to be with? A man that expects you to run behind him? That whole concept of pursing a man is a huge turn off for me. I worked at the office for probably a full two months before I even think he noticed me. I was running late to the office one day. There was a bad wreck on the way to work which caused me to be thirty minutes late. I was panicking as I sprinted from my car in the parking garage to the lobby. I had a disposition to do that morning and needed to do some last minute preparation. I brushed past everyone in the lobby to get to the elevator as quick as possible. I didn’t even have time to speak to building security which I always have a quick chat with whoever is on duty. When I got to the elevator I was surprising shocked to see no one was waiting for the elevator. “Thank God!” I said out loud as I rushed in the elevator to press the button for the twenty fifth floor. As soon as the door was about to close someone stuck their brief case in narrowing opening. It was Vinny. He just stared at me as he stood in between the elevator doors.
My anxiety level was already high. I snarled at him a little before saying, “Are you going up or not?”. He seemed a bit thrown off by my reaction and quickly stepped into the elevator. “I’m sorry, you’re just one of the most beautiful women I have every seen”, he said with a sexy little grin. Not to sound conceited, but I have heard that line before. If that’s the case why can’t I find a man to act right? “Yeah thanks… I’m running late so can you please move out the door way?”, I said while pressing the button for the twenty fifth floor. He quickly regained his composure and smiled before grabbing my hand. I would normally jerk my hand away from a stranger grabbing it but I didn’t. It is something about his touch. He slowly moved my hand towards his mouth to softly kiss my right hand. “I’m sorry Queen, let me make it up to you by taking you out to dinner tonight.” I was at a lost of words. It felt like a warm current circulated through my body just from the touch of his lips on my hand. All I could say was “Sure”. That was the start of one of my greatest headaches.
My mind suddenly snapped back into reality. “Do I really want to go through another day of sadness?” I thought to myself. “I really don’t want to be here!” I screamed out loud. My tears suddenly returned to my eyes. Swelling up my eye lids and blurring my vision. I rested my head in my hands as the stream of tears ran down my face. “I’ll never be happy” I whispered to myself. What if it is true? What if I am unable to be happy? My depression will never go away. How will I be able to make it another year let alone thirty or forty years. All the things that I want that I don’t have come flooding to my mind. Mainly, the lack of real love in my life. It may seem like a glamours life to be successful, beautiful, Independent, and childless. Many tell me how lucky I am to be able to travel whenever I want. I would rather have a family to come home to. It’s very lonely living life alone. No amount of money in the world can change that filling. There is a reason a lot of wealthy individuals pay so many people to be around them all the time. We don’t want to be alone. However, we are fully aware that most people are only around us because of the money. Can you see how lonely that could really be? I rather be alone then be around those that I know see me as only a dollar sign. Honestly, I’m sick of being alone. I need love. Real love. You can’t fake a genuine connection. You either feel it or you don’t. It’s different than lust. That type of connection that is solid even when sex isn’t on the table. But I don’t have that. I know my parents and family love me but it’s just not the same. I want my own family. Why is it so hard to find someone true?
I stood up off the couch. “Fuck it!” I said out loud as a walked back into my bedroom. My eyes were fixated on the dresser next to my bed where my black 9mm rest. I grabbed it and placed it too my chest. I slowly released the safety from the gun. I closed my eyes as I felt the cold barrel press against my chest. I closed my eyes and just stood there. All I could hear was the faint sounds of a commercial from my bedroom TV. It sounded like an old informercial. I tuned it out as I put my finger on the trigger. It felt like my brain was vibrating. My body began to feel like jelly. I was ready to let go. Then I heard a man’s voice from the TV. It was deep and very commending. “Give it three days! Whatever you are going through give it seventy two hours for God to guide your spirit to make a change!” the voice said.
I opened my eyes and turned to look at the TV. It was an informercial for a motivational speaker. Just as soon as I heard those words the commercial changed to soap advertising. “Is this a sign?” I thought to myself. I sat back on the bed with the gun still in my hand. “Maybe I should give it three days?” I thought. Maybe this is God hearing my cries and telling me to hold on? I wasn’t sure but I thought about it. “What is seventy two hours when I’m planing to end my life for good?” I said to myself. I was exhausted mentally and physically. I pulled back my bedsheets and got into bed. I placed the gun back on the dresser. I said to myself, “God I’m giving this one last shot! One last attempt to try and see the beauty in life.” I decided to start the count down to what could be my last hours on earth when I woke up. My mind and body were so weak I slipped into a deep sleep as I curled up with the pillow.
