Chapter one
I mustered the strength to persevere as I collapsed to the ground. My friend wandered off,
His voice gradually faded into the distance. I am uncertain as to where everything went awry, and now I find myself alone in the twilight of the night.
My weary eyes remained fixated on a single point. I pondered in despair,
wondering why sleep had become so elusive lately. Footsteps approached the place where I lay helplessly in my own blood.
Nature was taking its course, evident from the way my blood had thickened.
A crowd whispered my name, inquiring if I was okay, innocent souls... What happened?
They stood behind me, unaware of my dying body longing to escape this cruel world. My life flashed before my eyes,
transitioning from adulthood to infancy, and I was unable to change even a single word.
I recalled my father's wise words: "No matter what challenges you face, always find the strength to rise above."A blinding light interrupted my vision, causing everything to blur. We all have come to experience Earth,
yet my presence cannot be erased—not today and not now. That was my plea to God in a moment of prayer amid my crumbling life.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp slap across my face, and all I could hear was,
"Please… please don't do that to me!"
My vision was unclear, and it felt as though I had been in a deep sleep for a decade every time I shut my eyes. The lines on my palm seemed familiar,
and I recognized the scents surrounding me. From the sound of the horn, I could tell I was in a fast-moving car,
with the driver urging me to hold on. My sense of hearing never fails me. Then, I heard a voice filled with determination say,
"God has finally answered our prayers," as she grasped my cold hands against her belly.
I couldn't manage a smile out of disbelief because I comprehended the exciting news I had always yearned for.
The blood on her hands left me feeling numb, causing me to faint once more.
When I woke up, I felt cold and found myself staring at the floor.Unable to move a muscle, hearing my mother cry deeply affected me, striking right at my core.
She even shed a tear as she called me by my childhood name.
The realization that I held such significance for someone made me feel that while I could face death another time,
it wouldn't be today. They had asked her to wait in the waiting area,
assuring her they were doing all they could. It felt as if I wanted to rise from the wheelchair, take her hand,
and tell her it was all a misunderstanding—that I was okay.
Struggling for breath, the only emotion keeping me alive was anger. Even though I felt no pain, a strong desire for revenge consumed me.
I reminded myself that I couldn't succumb like this. After the doctor stitched my wounds,
I was sent home with the knowledge that the pharmacy was closed until the following morning—the only place where I could find help.
So, on my way home without medication and in such a vulnerable state,
my poor mother had to endure this once more. Just when I was supposed to be the one caring for her in her middle age,
I found myself feeling like a child again.As a father of two, I never anticipated this turn of events—
discovering my girlfriend was expecting on the same day I was sprawled out on the grass.
It's true what they say: during tough times, friends become scarce. It felt like I had just relocated;
everything and everyone seemed unfamiliar, although there was a sense of familiarity that lingered.
I found myself feeling lost in the chaos after losing my job while my girlfriend was two months pregnant.
It felt as though the weight of the world was resting on my shoulders.
The ride home from my former workplace was the most emotionally challenging journey I have ever experienced.
Contemplating my next steps, I spent an hour gazing out the window,
trying to piece together my narrative and figuring out how to gently inform both my mother and my child's mother about my job loss.
As the sole provider, I realized that life was about to become overwhelming.
We were managing day-to-day, just scraping by, but with my mother's support,
the situation couldn't have been any more daunting.That woman is not only a mother but also a resilient individual; remarkably, she has guided me in becoming a man.
Even now, I'm unsure how she manages it all,
but her ability to be a single parent while also serving as a father figure to three boys is truly impressive.
On January 8, 2022, an old friend of mine came to town and sought me out.
It was a Sunday afternoon, and we decided to step out for some drinks to cool down from the scorching sun.
We had plenty to catch up on since it had been a while since we last saw each other.
At the venue, I gave my friend some money to purchase our drinks while I searched for a quieter spot away from the noise and loud music to set up our chairs.
Once we found a table, I settled in and waited for my friend.
While I was busy scrolling through my phone, a random girl approached our table.
She spent a few moments shouting, but with the music being so loud,
I didn't pay much attention to her words. Eventually,
she came up to me and rudely remarked, "It's their table.
CHAPTER TWO
Attempting to capture everyone's attention.
There was absolutely no reason to shout, I said politely.
As I prepared to offer her a chair—after all, the table was large enough for all of us—I suddenly felt a sharp pain piercing my upper left shoulder.
I turned around and saw him standing there, knife in hand,
covered in my own flesh and blood! Fueled by rage, I charged at my assailant, with no time to ask questions as my blood splattered everywhere.
The only thing I remember clearly is the sound of an engine starting;
I'd be dishonest if I said I could recount how I got home from the hospital that day. My situation went from bad to worse,
with my mind operating on autopilot. Like a flickering light,
my thoughts came and went. One morning, I realized I had been staying with my cousin, who played a significant role in supporting me.
After three months of suffering, I was unable to talk, walk,
or even pinch myself to confirm I was still alive. It felt as if I were a lifeless doll,
forced to endure the sensation of a spoon in my stomach.