tw: suicide, abuse
It was 4th April, 2023.
Around 8 or 9AM that day, there was this big ruckus outside the classroom I’m in, on the ground floor. When I peak my head outside the door to see, an ambulance was already there. It must’ve arrived quietly because I didn’t hear the siren. Which was odd.
A bit later, a group of policemen were also there.
My country is known for rely heavily on Facebook as the main social media, except me for some damn reason. So by the time I got a grasp of what was going on, the guy who was sitting next to me, who is on 30 groups already got a photo in details, taken by someone else and posted in those groups for anyone to see.
…
I’ve had classes full day that day. From early 6:50AM all the way till 11:40AM, barely got time for a lunch break before rushing my way to another class from 12:30PM and finally finished at 4:45PM or so.
It was a long day, despite everything.
Despite that.
The polices made sure the witnesses were minimum, kept everyone inside until the clean up job is done. By the time I got to my lunch break, it was like nothing ever happened.
At least as far as normal eyes could see.
…
5PM.
Me and a friend visited the room, where they found him. Room 509, top floor, which is the fifth floor of that building.
It was a really beautiful day.
The sun setting slowly into the horizon. Like a giant ball of metal in the hands of a skilled blacksmith, took their time drowning it under the surface of water. Calmly descending, yet radiating red still. It didn’t want to go without saying goodbye though, as sunlight shined warmly on the white wall, where we were standing. Shined through the window glasses, shined on the floor of the classroom.
Dimly, spotted sunlight.
There was a bowl of incense inside of the room. With a few ones that were still burning.
Time stopped at that moment. As if all the worries in the world seemed to go away.
…
It reminds me of that day. The day someone I thought I could trust, chose to do bad things to me.
It reminds me of that day. The day I decided to go away.
It was a beautiful day. Just like that.
And now, it happened to you…
…
The dusts from the burned incenses lied sparingly on the chairs. Two tables arranged into a rectangle, high and stable enough for a standard 5’7 person to reach the ceiling. There was a pole to attach a projector onto it.
Metal, sturdy.
A projector cables was found detached near the teacher’s table. A deep blue VGA cable.
The date was 4th April. It is a superstition common in Ease Asian countries that the number 4 is associated with death.
…You planned all of this.
Like how I used to.
…
The first drink I bought was a standard 500mL mineral water. I sat down next to the door with a Buckethead’s track on my earphones. The track was “Holding the ones you love”.
The second day, and all the days after that were all a blur, but I kept the habit. I sat with you for as long as I can help it.
I sat there and watch the clouds and the sky.
I sat there with you.
I didn’t want to leave you alone.
You might still be there. You might not been moving on yet. Maybe, maybe not. I didn’t know. I couldn’t see the death. I couldn’t see the souls, the lost ones.
Maybe I was crazy to believe I could comfort a lost soul, when I’m the one that is lost too.
Maybe we’d find we are much alike.
Maybe because I’ve been there. Maybe I’d understand. And you’d understand that I understand too.
Maybe.
Maybe…
…
A building full of students in beautiful clothing, with all the pictures of your body on the noose in their phone and the comments and the virtue signaling and the Facebook posts and the selfies and the moral preaching and the endless commenting and the discussions and the sweeping under the rug and the silencing and the made up facts.
And none of them ever stopped to wonder.
Why?
…
The dusts from those incenses are still there, in the classroom, to this day.
