THE UNKNOWN CALL



I twisted to critically appraise my curves in the tall glass one last time. I had not watched television or gone on a proper date for over three months, not since work had become so demanding. Part of me still aggrandized the image of lying in bed, snacking on a good pan pizza and finally sleeping off on some random Netflix movies.


I twitched the pleat on the skirt and adjusted the waist line. Needless to say, I looked good and the mental picture stuck. The buzzing of my phone interrupted my thoughts. My mind quickly raced to my date. His surname was yet to stick and so was my need to get seriously involved with another man.


The caller was unknown and on sliding the green icon on the screen, his voice came live.

‘’Miss jones’’?

Yes, speaking”

‘’I’m guessing you know miss Edith Uwaoma’’?

Yes, I do, but who is on the line’’?

The voice on the other end of the line was far from familiar. He said evasively, ‘’Please make your way to the hospital on account of miss Edith immediately’’.


Edith has been trying to reach me nonstop for the past few weeks and I had smartly dodged every attempt she made.

The caller repeated the address to the hospital twice and I couldn’t deny the ting of desperation in his voice before he hung up.


Lost in thought for a minute, I thought of possible reasons anyone could come up with to either play pranks on me or Edith using someone to get my attention. As the thoughts flooded my mind, an unusual cold feeling engulfed my being. Panic in its raw form consumed me. Cold sweat dripped down my face and I still couldn’t place my hands on the reason for the feeling. The more I tried to figure it out, the more clueless I became. I rummaged through my purse for the house keys and once I found it, I left for the hospital.


The drive to the hospital was done almost absentmindedly. I was consumed with mental flashes of the missed calls I had seen on my phone and text messages I never returned. It always followed a similar pattern, four missed calls and a text message which always read ‘’please call me back, we need to talk’’.

For all the times I saw her messages, I dismissed it knowing I wasn’t ready to lose my friendship with her over series of monies borrowed and never returned. Life was rough and money wasn’t always easy to come by.


It was easy locating the hospital. I stared down the hallway to the doctor’s office, the noise from different conversation groups faded, the ticking of the clock became amplified, with each tick syncopating with my heart beat. After several attempts to open the door to the doctor’s office and my sweaty palm always slipping, I finally stood face to face with him.

After what seemed like a forced exchange of pleasantries between us, he said, ‘’ your number was the last and most frequently dialed one on her phone, so we chose to call you. Every other thing he said just flew pass my ear. I was struggling between staying conscious and handling the news as not to explode.

‘’She left a suicide note, here it is’’


He handed over the faded white crinkled paper to me.

I froze for…… (I can’t exactly remember for how long)

Mixed emotions battled within me and each fighting to suppress the other. Pain, regrets, guilt, anger and resentment. I felt an awful amount of pain, a huge load of regrets, a life time of guilt knowing that she tried reaching out to me severally and resentment towards myself for failing my dear friend.

‘’Life was unfair

Death seemed better

I hope to smile on the other side

I’m sorry if I left so soon’’



Her suicide note caused more pain than I could imagine. The air in the room seemed so thin and it was as though I was struggling to breathe in a guilt smitten air. Blood flooded my brain and sweat blossomed like a mini pool in my palm. Those words pierced deep down my soul and scarred like an acid wound. Fighting back tears, I made my way to the door. Screams and yells clawed at my throat as I stood face to face with my friend, lying cold and defeated.

Her spirit may never forgive me and any ear that hears may wriggle in pain. If I could turn back the hands of time to the 13th of March, 2018, I would have picked the call and said:

‘’Edith, I love you so much and you can talk to me about whatever you are going through and we will figure it out together’’.




Life has taught me a very bitter lesson, and I’ve sure learnt the hard way.

You are never too busy for nobody!



NB: Fiction.

Photo credit: Google.



Comments

Damien said…
Fantastic piece Kender, and very captivating story!
Every line of this piece led me so well through my anxiety state of 'can't wait to know about this unknown call', besides, your choice of words is super.
However, I just feel that this article should have like a part 2 which should expatiate on the moral that 'you can be too busy for nobody'

Your call though...
@Damien, thanks so much for reading and those nice words of encouragement. I will definitely work on a sequel to the story. Thanks so much again.
Gutsy said…
Very captivating. Sometimes, i wonder why life has to be so hard. Someone could be keeping distance because she too is depressed and not know the other is too.
I wish there were no stigmatization around depression, that people would be able to speak up about depression as malaria.
@ujunwa, my dear people rarely talk about what they go through because we are most times judging instead of actually giving a comforting shoulder to lean on. I PRAY Nigerians actually take this depression very serious as many are facing it even unknowingly. Thanks so much for reading and commenting. I love you Hun.

Popular posts from this blog

5 Ways To Get Out Of A BAD Mood

The War Within

ARE YOU READY 😇😇😇