THE LAST WALK...

(This is a very emotional story of a young adolescent in an inattentive adult world... with a huge takeaway for parents, unmarried adults, and indeed other adolescents - a foray into the deep subconscious of the young mind, a story that easily passes for a psychologist's treaties on the deep laconic lacuna inherent in a girl-child. Enjoy reading....)

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The sad lyrics of Skylar Grey’s Invisible poured loudly into my ears from my iPod. Walking along the sidewalk of the busy road seemed like the most wonderful thing to do at the moment. I was strolling casually while it seemed like everyone else was in a rush to get to some place or the other. It felt like I was the only sane being in the middle of an asylum. Even though I was the only sane one, it didn’t change the fact that no one would notice if I disappeared or maybe evaporated. I was coming to terms with the fact that I was actually invisible.

I was eighteen and my life was in shambles. That is if I actually had a life. Everyone else in my age grade seemed to have normal lives, but not me. I paused for a second to place the sad song on repeat. Today was one of those days, the days when I just take some time to reflect on the depressing decade I had spent in the world.

To start with, I was born into a lovely family that loved me, or so I thought. My father was quite what you would call ‘superdad’. He seemed like the dads in the movies - cool, calm and understanding. But he was a man and I was a girl. My mother on the other hand never fit into the picture of the moms in the movies. Or maybe I watched too many Hollywood movies I forgot I was African. Yes, I had an African mom, the kind that didn’t knock on your room door to ask if you needed company or give you a hug when you made her a present. Thus, I grew up alone in my own world, my quiet hell.

As for siblings, we were spaced too far apart. My elder sister was eight years older than I am and I was seven years older than my younger brother. It almost seemed like we were three separate people, although, we loved each other. At least, maybe they would bat an eye if I disappeared.

I unplugged my ears to cross the road and then it hit me. Why don’t you just keep walking and never come back? I stifled a laugh and crossed over. I had had this thought a million times in the past, since when I was eight. Yes, it was that early. Even as bright as a kid I was, my mother didn’t do much good in nurturing my self-esteem. I grew up with a subconscious mind of not being as pretty as the others, being too thin and of course how could I ever forget I had huge eyes that didn’t function when it was time to look for something? Getting good grades wasn’t enough for my mother as it seemed. It just felt like she was never satisfied with me. Katie was too skinny, ugly and didn’t possess the sixth sense her age mates had.

I dismissed the thought of running away and walked into a KFC outlet. It was almost empty as it was midday on a Tuesday. Most people were at work. I ordered a snack and a drink and chose a seat in the corner to sit and reflect. From my private space I could see a few others littered around the room, huddled in groups of teens and youth, hanging out, as they called it. Then the first tear dropped and the waterfall was unleashed. It hurt that I was invisible. Not like people didn’t talk to me at school or anything, but in reality it was only when I was helping them out. Other times maybe I went strolling with a few people. I didn’t have the kind of friends you could call up anytime to hang out, chat or share your dreams, hopes and aspirations with. You’re probably wondering if an eighteen year old doesn’t have a boyfriend. Well, yes, I had a love life. It contributed to the waterfall pouring out of my eye sockets.

I had been involved with a few boys and it didn’t end well. To cut the saga short, at the moment I was with someone who also wouldn’t bat an eye if I disappeared too. Sometimes I wondered if our relationship was imaginary.

A zillion teardrops later, I raised my head to eat my cold sausage and Sprite. It was either it tasted bland or I just wasn’t in the mood to eat. Food was the least of my worries at the moment. And then I decided it was high time I experienced peace. It was a weak choice but I didn’t want to think of anything else. I was sick of the motivational talks here and there, about being yourself and living life to the fullest. I was tired of an island and my experience with people wasn’t worth it either. Even my own family wasn’t ‘it’, how much more the world!

I picked up my iPod and purse and kept walking towards the woods. Navigating through the trees was fun, especially as I was still listening to my invisible soundtrack. With a deep breath, I acknowledged my environment; I had reached the end of the woods and busted out at the cliff.

I was one step away from peace…

Like a TV commercial once said, ‘keep moving forward’…

And that was exactly what I did…

• Story by Itz Terrie

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