A trip to heaven

I have tried it before only now the will is stronger than ever. When he calls to give me a ride home I am ecstatic. The office has been utter suffocation. Today in particular we have been dared to leave if we want to, by the sicko we have for a COO. The company can well do without you. ‘Do it after this meeting, if you wish’, he says with no remorse.

This is from a company that needs a lot of saving right now. Thanks recession! He (the driver) nudges me at half past four and tells me we need to leave.  My bags, well packed by 3pm in the afternoon, are slowly slung on my back that now threatens to break in the literal sense. Worse still my insides are struggling to stay alive. Specifically my heart is trying so hard to beat.

On our way home, he tells me about his vacation. I hear nothing from the 20mins of chatter. Happy to be home, I strip down to my underwear and wear a loose t-shirt and bury myself under the covers. They smell like they need cleaning. Not filthy but I can smell something weird. See I am in the one in the crowd who can smell a delicacy, dead animal, pot, fuel ( sickening) , a fart, a burst pipe, a baby’s natural scent, anything; thanks to my mother’s genes, from a mile away. So when I say the bedding are dying for a wash, they are.

Here I am again soaked in my misery and wishing the whole world would disappear.  Tried to remember if I had any medication in the house. Zilch! That is deliberate. See without medicine you cannot try and kill yourself. Wait there is a blunt somewhere in the house. I ransack the kitchen and tear the curtain, spill flour, break a mason jar in my wake to get something to numb me.  I don’t find it. I should probably read an old diary written by the dreamy and hopeful 19 year old me.  Going through my stacks of books is proving to be temporarily relieving. Then I find it. Yes! And another! Now a bottle! Heavens are looking down on me and the angels are singing a number to my found treasure.

I sip they syrup. Tastes like heaven.  Guzzling the whole bottle takes a minute and leaves more time to swallow the pills.  One, two, three…I stop at 32. I am wasting too much time counting the pills. What am I trying to do? Find out how many it will take kill me? In a few minutes I begin to feel drowsy, then happy. I am trying hard to remember what I took but coherent conversation or thought is not something I can do right now.

“Why are you here?” he asks. At least I think he does.

“I actually made it. This is so cool. I just have a couple a questions then I will be good, question one…”

“You are not supposed to be here”

“Well I am already here”

“You gave up”

“Well actually I didn’t. Oh wait! Bad joke. I am here so it looks like I did. My bad. I just needed to have a conversation with you and prayers don’t seem to work so I thought a personal appearance might have more impact.”

He gives an amused face. He created me so this is no surprise.

“Okay. My work sucks but I love my job. Make sense? Of course it does, you are all-knowing. I have been at it for a minute. You could have shortened that by the way. Anyway, everyone I started with is now well-to-do and I am still waiting for my salary arrears which are now at one, two, three months and there is no hope for things looking up. See why I had to come personally?”


“Stay with me. There are prayers I have made for ages but you did not even bother to answer them. Instead you left me to greedy bosses, perverts and users who break me with each resignation. You know at one point I actually went hungry and you were here. Well there. Everywhere. You know what I mean. I just want to understand what is it that you want me to do with my life.”

“Something that baffles me is why you left bad people prosper. Like Alex for example, he has been an ass to me since I got my new job. And then he shares the word and prays at Monday morning meetings and you actually listen to him. He is your representative. Him. Also if I lose my job this time around, it’s all his fault. He keeps snitching on me to the boss and they listen to him. I don’t get it. I really don’t.”

“Before you say anything. I prayed a lot. As a child especially. I really did. I read the word. I did the work. Guess what, none of that matters now. Every heathen is running the town while I continue to work for scraps and find my PURPOSE! What is with that by the way? If you have a purpose for me, us, everyone why don’t you just reveal to us and let us just pursue them. All this running around the mountain in oblivion is so archaic, no offence”


“I am sure you have something to say. Nothing? This is why I gave up praying. You don’t say anything. You just do THIS! You know we learned in school that communication is a two way process where both parties understand shared meaning. See how this is not happening here.  Okay where may I sit, I am starting to get exhausted.”

“You know as a child I begged and prayed that you use my life to inspire people and I think that’s where I shot myself in the leg. All I have done is actually work and work and now I am genuinely exhausted in trying to find a purpose. I want out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Finally you say something. I just want a way out. My body is giving in and my spirit is just disappearing and people just keep trampling on it. I am tired! I am tirrreeed…”

“Are you awake? It’s me.”

“What are you doing here? Do you want answers too? That’s why I came here as well. ” I say to roommate who looks pleadingly to the man in a white…the doctor.

Where am I though? I have just known her a couple of weeks but I love her. She even has my spare key. Wait is that how they found me? I should take that key back.  She cups my face in her cold, sweaty palms. She looks so sad. We have been here before and her eyes are weary but so am I. I turn to the other side, put my head on my folded hands.

“I called your parents”. She says it as a sanctification of her betrayal. She called the same people who lead me back here every single time.

She is tired of the episodes. So am I Judy. So am I.

  1. Vikki kimani

    13 September

    Am in loove, keep doing you boo…

    • admin

      13 September

      Thank you mummy. One post at a time

  2. Triza

    14 September

    I love it…. it’s so you. Wish it was God though, I mean I don’t wish you were dead obviously,hahaa… but I wish it was the guy upstairs, would have loved to hear his side of the story! you were really tearing him a new one!

    • admin

      17 September

      When writing this months ago I wanted him to write his bit then I figured that means I am gone. However he has slowly revealed the purpose for everything. At the time when I left the job, there were around 20 people in my circle alone who had been retrenched. At the time it seemed bleak. Now it is the best thing that happened to me. I should have left sooner. Thank for being an amazing crazy sister.

  3. Linda

    16 September

    I like it… ‘without medicine you cannot try and kill yourself’

    • admin

      17 September

      Yes you cannot. Thank you Linda

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