Zumina is a graduate in Health Promotion and a certified counselor. Writing is her passion.
It has become a part of my routine to visit the river bank in the evenings and to look at the sky that changed from blue to pink then to an pink and orange mix to bright red and eventually the darkness that engulfs the colors to let the way for the moon that comes as a queen sloughing its appearance in the water ripples caused by the cold wind.
It was a Sunday evening, I stood on the river bank looking at the dark clouds which hid the pink and orange mixed sky. Even though this very place is a couple of kilometres away from where I lived, still my journey to this place every day gave me some peace of mind proving that nothing is permanent in our lives as the colour of the evening sky; including our sorrows.
When it started drizzling, the lightning sparks that cut through the sky illuminated a small house with roof tiles. It was abandoned years ago, who is there inside? The question haunted me and to my astonishment, I could see a fade yellow light through the cracked window. It started raining and as the wind blew off the leaves of the nearby trees making me run towards the abandoned house. The crooked shadow inside vigorously hurt something. The door is open as of welcoming me inside; the man is struggling for life in the pool of blood. I cannot move and the sight switched off all my senses making me watch the soul parting his body and there he lays with wide opened eyes and a knife stained in blood beside him.
It was dark and pouring outside with lightning and roaring thunder. Jack never seemed to mind the weather at all. He just rushed to the pharmacy nearby and bought all the necessary medicines for his wife’s sickness. He was pharmacist a few years ago since the people started to mock him, he stopped going to work. Jack just opened the door of his roof tiled house which had one or two holes in it, that brought the water inside. His wife lays mourning on a small wooden bed wearing a grey gown, and her hair was untied revealing a couple of grey hairs. He started treating her with the purchased medicines shrinking his eyes that hurt due to the past sleepless days.
It was the daylight, which woke him up there he lays on the floor, “Honey wake up, you will feel much better today, See the marigolds outside, Wake up honey your favourite flowers has bloomed”. Jack’s heart began to race. Her eyes were closed peacefully, hands rested beside her and she just doesn’t move! “Honey” he shook her while the tears rolled down his cheeks.
Alas! He checked her pulse and his brain told him that she is no more. However, a hope remained in the corner of his heart. He sat beside her not blinking his eyes, wishing to see a movement. She would wake and hug me now, he thought. As the time passed jack decided to call for help. According to his request, the ambulance arrived. The service team in white rushed in with a stretcher, but all at once they looked dismayed. One of the boys in the service team asked “sir where is the patient? He replied in rage. “She’s on the bed, can’t you see?”
All at once they started leaving. While leaving one of them accused Jack "you crazy idiot, wasted our time”.
Jack was confused. However, he tried, even more, this time. He ran on the road leaving footprints of blood, and screamed: “my wife needs help, please help!!"
Few of them came running while few took no notice of his words.
He could only hear the same words again and again, “he is crazy". It echoed all over.
Jack decided to kill himself so that he could meet his wife and live a peaceful life in heaven with her far from the society that points a finger.
Jack's hallucinations started since he was an adult. Throughout his life, he has been living with an imaginary wife.
The society kept accusing him of his behaviour, but no one bothered to find out what he is going through. No one spared a minute to talk with him, all who talked just said “he acts weird” and avoided him.
Even though all he had is a hallucinatory wife, his care for her and his inner feelings for her supersedes that of a normal human being.
Jack is not responsible for the disease he is suffering from, Schizophrenia. When he isn’t responsible for what he has got, how can a man be accountable for his sufferings? He is not weird, it’s us the society that is selfish and weird. Also blind and deaf enough to listen and see the suffering of one of our fellow human being.If someone had spared a minute to talk with Jack and took enough concern, today we could have saved him without letting the darkness engulf the colours of his life.
© 2018 Weird Birdie