Hope and suicide

What makes a human keep going, moving forward? What inspires a human to deal with all the negative and focus on positive? What makes a human to wish for living one more day? The answer is hope for the better days.

I was lying on the bed. It was already 10 in the morning. I could clearly hear the vehicles on the road, pigeons making sound, people gossiping but nothing made me feel like waking up. I could see the ceiling of my room and the hanging mosquito net. I was talking to myself, "There are two ways of getting over this problem right now; one: hang yourself from the ceiling like the mosquito net, next: get lost in your own world of imagination." In both ways I could escape the present and feel nothing. I just imagined myself hanging on the ceiling. "Would I hang keeping my eyes open or closed", I thought to myself.

But hanging myself was just not a good idea. It would end everything forever and I didn't want it to end this way. I wanted to die being inspiration to thousands. I wanted to narrate the story of my struggle to the world. So, I decided to chose the second option. Thank God I had imagination and hope for better future which inspired me every minute to live. Suicide is never an ultimate option.

Memories

The tear drops were falling on her cell phone screen as if it were the big drops of the rain which could drown the road of Baudha. Yes, it was not less than the rain drops, whoever could read her eyes in that moment could easily be drowned in her emotional pain. Her heart was heavy. She was sad, so was the sky which was crying along with her to give company in her pain.

She wiped her tears from the cheeks and from the cellphone screen. She untangled her earphone and tried to escape the reality by enjoying the deep music. Her playlist was full of sad songs which made her dwell even more in the past. It was the time when she was 5 years old, she was a happy kid back then. She wasn't excellent in her studies like her brother but she was a average kid. One day, her father was trying to teach her to solve some maths problem. Her mind was not sharp and faster enough to grasp the concept of math so easily. So, even after the contineous efforts of her father she couldn't solve it. Her father became so furious that he took the pencil from her hand and hit hard on her thighs. The pencil broke into two pieces and she cried in pain.

The rememberance of the hurtful memory in which she missed her fathers love and caring nature made her more upset. She started thinking, "Do I have any good, happy memories with my parents ?" She constantly tried to revisualize her past memories but she could hardly find any good memory. Again, a bad memory strated playing in front of her eyes. She was just 13 years back then when a teacher tried to molest her. Her parents along with few relatives saw it and created a scene. She excepted some love, care from her parents. She excepted a hug but instead she was accused of getting herself involved in it. Her child psychology was badly affected. This made her emotionally weak. She again got upset thinking she has no good memories with her parents. She never got emotional support whenever she was in the extreme need. She just closed her eyes which were full of tears and tried to fall asleep.