 |
|
 |
| My Mum would quiz me as to the nature of these blemishes appearing on my body I just replied I was mucking around with my friends and it got a bit rough. I believe that deep inside she knew there was more to it, but if I felt I had to lie then I obviously just wasn’t ready to come out with the truth. The day of October third was in fact the worst day of living itself I had given up hope by this time and came to school awaiting the bullies to start in on me. This day whilst standing beside a window talking to one of my friends, the ringleader of the gang came up to me from behind and pushed my head through the window. He ran off quickly to avoid getting into trouble and left me lying on the ground bleeding and sobbing, wanting my life to end right there and then. My so-called friends just helped me to my feet and told me I should go wash my face before the teachers see the blood. In an attempt not to make a scene I rushed into the toilets washed my face and treated my cuts. Not a single soul could help me in my time of need, I felt truly alone – I wouldn’t be missed. That afternoon I came home to find my brother sick from school but my determination to end my life had already overwhelmed me. I tied a noose as best I could and strolled down to a large tree in our backyard. I placed the noose over a branch and stood upon a stool to support myself. My mind had no remorse, no feeling or no contemplation at this time as to what I was doing. I cried for a short while, sobs filled with my hatred for the world, if only they world knew they were loosing a once spirited young man who had so much to prove and show to the world. Without further thought I kicked the stool from under my feet. I let out a short scream, which was directed to the excruciating twist the rope had around my neck. It was now that I wished the stool was still under my feet, feeding me the breath of life. I tried to struggle but my arms no matter how much I willed it would not move - this was the end. From my tear filled eyes I could see a figure moving in slow motion towards me. The blurred figure grabbed my legs and held me up, beyond the pounding sensation and ringing in my ears I could hear him screaming for help. More figures emerged from the blurred distance and ran to my aide. I started to feel no more pain and the world I once loved was slowly going out of focus, please let me die I love you Mum and Dad, I’m sorry. Slowly objects and figures came into focus, strange noises were echoing in my ears. Was I dead? Am I in Heaven or Hell? Many questions raced through my mind in this state of disorientation, what in the world was going on here? “Zane sweetie it’s Mum how are you feeling?” I heard the sweet sound of my mothers voice from somewhere in the room, comforting me, everything was going to be okay. “Where am I Mum?” I asked quizzically “You are in the hospital” she replied. What why was I not dead? I thought I had done everything right, I don’t want to be alive I want to be dead can’t no one understand that, I am in pain here I don’t want to live. Without warning I slipped back into a state of unconsciousness for another 6 hours, by the time I woke back up Mum had already informed my family that I was coming to, so they all came to my side at my hospital bed awaiting for my re-entrance back into consciousness. This incident proved to one of the biggest milestones in my life, it was from these experiences that I learned the harsh reality of the world I live in, and more so how the human race fears what it does not understand. Although my first year of high school was tragic it made me stronger – ten fold. After my encounter with the noose it was decided we should live elsewhere. Somewhere that was more convenient to our lifestyle and a brand new school where I could start from scratch. Before Christmas that year we had settled into our new home at Chancellor Park - a very large and commercial estate. I made a few acquaintances before school started the next year, so my confidence that I would fit in was quite high, although I did spend most of the holidays worrying about everything imaginable. From my looks, my personality and whether or not I was going to fit in or be subjected to the same sort of torture that I had put up with the previous year. |
 |