She looked so young and naive, probably sixteen years old. I would have walked away as I normally do but I couldn't understand why such a young girl like her would want to end her life at that early age.
Not that I cared, I guess I was just curious and needed something– anything– to forget about my sorrows or at the slightest keep it low.
And she was the exact thing I needed at that moment because while walking out of the hell I call home, I was hoping I would see someone who could come along and make my tragedies seem less tragic.
You might not understand this phenomenon but it's something people like me who have seen the worst things in life do.
You seek out people like you... or people worse off than you... and you use them to make yourself feel a bit better about the horrible things that have happened to you at such an early stage of life.
It's often so horrible how life works. Some people face their horrors of life once in a while, some once in a lifetime, the lucky ones don't even face any at all– their lives are just a bed of roses– then there's us who face our horrors every day of our lives that it now seems like a normal daily routine.
I do believe that the little phrase 'life sucks' is so incredibly true because every day of my life sucks. It's just like I'm already in the depths of the great ocean I've been swimming in all my life yet I keep drowning and drowning. I guess I'm in between the sea sands now. Or even farther than that. Who knows?
Nevertheless, I don't believe in the adage that says 'there's light at the end of every tunnel.'
To be honest, that's a foolish adage. Not everyone gets a happy ending. I guess the creator of that adage was too blind to see that or maybe he or she had no chance of facing the things people like me face every day of our lives. Maybe he or she was part of those who face their horrors once in a lifetime or perhaps he or she was among the lucky ones.
Such a pity!
I don't believe in motivational speeches, they are all just a bunch of lies. They disgust me just as much as my so-called dad did.
I took a glance at the suicide girl, at the white Oleander plant in her hand, and recognition shot through me.
I knew at a glance that I have seen that plant before, I knew I have touched it, I knew I have inhaled it.
But was that all I did? Of course not. They say the darkest hour is just before dawn.
Those acts propelled me to do more. It was not once, not twice, and definitely not thrice.
I had done exactly what she was about to do as I walked toward her but how then did I survive? That's a mystery I can't even tell.
White Oleander is a very deadly plant. Every part of it is poisonous down to the twigs and roots. But yet, I had drank, chewed, and licked of it severally with the hope of ending my mystery but each time my heart stopped beating and I felt I had gotten what I desired, I woke up the next morning sound, safe, and healthy.
At first, I thought the plant was probably not as deadly as they make it seem so I made my pet, a cat, have a sip of it.
It died instantly and so did all my other pets I also made have a taste just to satisfy my gewgaw. That was the early stages of my life, before I even thought of killing my brother, then I was still yet to know about my powers.
And trust me when I say I've died more than a hundred times over the years yet lived the next morning. I had jumped into a high current sea when the flag was red even though I knew I couldn't swim, guess what? I woke up the next morning beside the sea, dry, safe, and sound. No one would even guess I drowned. It was just like a little girl enjoying the view of the sea and the early morning sunlight.
I've fallen from a high building, more like an office tower, and felt my skull shatter and my breath slip away but yet woke up the next morning alive, intact without a single scratch on my body.
I've drank so many overdose drugs; ciprofloxacin, cyanide, narcotic, insulin, morphine and so many others I didn't even check their names before taking yet nothing happened to me.
If not that I knew the features of a witch I would have believed that I am one each time my so-called dad called me that.
But then again, even though I felt relief that I wasn't a witch, I've been in deep thought of what I am all my life. Like, if I'm not a witch then what am I? Or let me be specific since I'm human after all, who am I? Where do I come from? Am I an alien?
I guess you won't be able to answer that just as I have not been able to too.
She was squeezing the plant by the time I got to her, aiming to squeeze out the water and dawn it down her throat. But that's stressful, she could have just eaten the whole thing.
She would have dropped to the floor before she removed her hand from her mouth. I had to tell her that. I did.
"What did you just say?" She asked back in a tiny voice, her brows drawn up.
I didn't know what to term her reaction. Perhaps, she had expected me to run to her and tell her a hundred reasons she shouldn't do it but instead I did the opposite. The last thing she had thought anyone who would catch her about to commit suicide would do.
But she wanted to do it right? What wrong did I do in suggesting to her the easiest way to achieve her aim?
"I said, what the hell did you just say?! Are you deaf?!!"