She bought the rope on Monday.
After a weekend of loneliness, she went out and bought the rope.
She had never assumed herself to ever be as tired of life as to want to take hers but everyday she spent alive these past months have been worse than death.
Antonia counted the money and handed it to the attendant. She bought the pills on Tuesday.
As a kid she had played with dolls, brushed their pretty little heads and even learnt to make pretty little braids.
As she grew, she read books and learnt everything there was to know about children.
It was as though it was her life’s worth to be a mother.
Of course her friends laughed at her. All through University all she read and talked about were children.
“Wa bimo lemo!” Her granny had prayed on her 24th birthday.
Blessing her with the prayer for twins.
Every morning, Antonia sang the prayer song.
Every morning till her period didn’t come.
Till the monthly blood flow was replaced by cramps.
So she went to the hospital and was told that her womb had an infection.
How could her womb have an infection? She had done nothing with it!
“These things happen.” the doctor said.
“Is there something I can take for it?”
“I’m sorry but at this rate, to save your life, we must take out your womb.”
To save my life?
Antonia died in the doctor’s seat that day.
Did he not realize that the children her womb was to bear was her life?
But he insisted, her mother insisted, even her fiancé .
In order to save her life, she lay on the bed and allowed the doctor, take her life.
Everything from then on became shades of appalling gray.
“Antonia, it’s not the end of the world you know. You could always adopt kids.”
It was an idea, a really good idea.
She decided that she’d bring it up when her fiancé came to visit.
She was in the hospital for two weeks and not once did he come.
So she went to his house, upset, yet worried that something had happened to him.
And there he was, with another.
“She’s a woman, you’re not.” He was his sole explaination.
“You’re not!” Like ripples on water, like the fanning out of alarms, those words, reached into her already dead self and killed her, again.
She wasn’t ill anymore, not physically at least.
Not in the places that eyes could see and hands massage out. Pain that no pill had yet been created for shot through her.
Antonia went home to find peace, but broken hearted, she was of no use to anyone.
She couldn’t laugh and tickle her siblings as she used to.
She didn’t want to eat, drink or go out.
“Is she still in her room?”She’d over heard someone say.
“Why is she acting like a baby? Is she the only one that something like this would happen to?”
“All that rubbish of just crying and crying. If it was left to me, I’ll give her a good slap!” They’d said.
She was no longer a woman. She no longer had any usefulness.
Her fiancé who she thought would love her through fire and hail, who knew her more than any other, who supposedly loved her, couldn’t anymore because she’s become a figurine.
“She looked like a woman sounded like one, but really wasn’t.”
“Who would want her now?” They all whispered it when they thought she was asleep.
So she took the rope in her hands and twisted it round her neck.
She stood on the chair and began to weep.
Then from the living room she heard a voice say, “Is that silly girl still crying? This is rubbish! If she doesn’t stop, I’ll kick her out and send her to the village. She can go wallow there in self pity!”
Antonia shut her eyes and imagined what her children would have looked like as she gently nudged the chair out of place.
-Not trying to be a downer, I assure you these two are the saddest of the series! Thanks for stopping by!