Four days had passed and I still hadn’t left the flat.
I hadn’t washed or eaten and the only contact I’d had with the outside world was a 30 second phone call with my mum. I just lay under my duvet for hours at a time. No music, no TV, no fags, just my whirring thoughts and the polka dot sheets. Occasionally, I would get up to use the toilet and sip some water, but even that felt like a mountain to climb.
I was restless, something was crawling underneath my skin. I clawed at my neck and chest, leaving crimson scratches and bloody fingernails. I fell from the bed onto the bedroom floor, crying out for mercy, but no one was listening.
I couldn’t take it anymore, it was unbearable. I lay on my bed, pleading, crying out for some relief from the agonising pain that plagued my mind. I felt like a dying animal trapped in a snare, praying for the hunter’s dogs to come and end my misery.
I jumped up, with tears falling down my face I frantically started to tidy my flat. I organised my clothes into bags and washed up dirty plates in the kitchen. I got a bin bag and began disposing of old diary entries and angry letters I had written over the years.
When everything was in order and I had removed anything personal. I went to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. I looked at myself in the mirror and felt nothing but contempt for the reflection staring back at me.
“You are disgusting”
I turned and walked back to my bedroom. I picked up a pair of scissors and began cutting the leather strap from a handbag. I then attached the strap to a scarf and made a noose. I took out my notepad and wrote a brief ‘I’m sorry’ note and left it on the bed.
I carried a chair into the hall and made sure the flat door was locked. I put my favourite Beatles track on, placed my phone on the cabinet beside me and turned off the lights. With my back to the front door, I stepped onto the chair and tied the makeshift noose to the door mechanism near the ceiling. I then placed the leather strap around my neck and closed my eyes.
I was shaking and my heart was racing but I knew it would all be over soon. I took a deep breath and kicked the chair from underneath me. I felt my body drop and the leather strap snap tight around my throat but the scarf didn’t hold and I came crashing to the ground within seconds.
I lay on the floor gasping for breath. I was winded and it felt like I had been punched in the throat. I must have been on the floor for 10 minutes before I got up and limped into the kitchen. I think it was the shock, but my mind stayed completely blank as I made myself a cup of tea.
I sat on the sofa and just stared at the wall in front of me. I could hear ‘Let it Be’ eerily playing in the hallway and I felt a tear roll down my cheek.
I went to the window and looked down at the people on the street below. I could see mothers dragging reluctant children along the pavement, an old lady struggling with heavy bags and a couple of teenagers waiting for a bus. I watched cars speeding past, illuminating my flat with their yellow headlights. Nothing stopped.
Life goes on.