I Need a Friend

By Moyo Awotile

I was always a happy kid, the class clown, the joker.

There was forever a funny anecdote for every situation and so no one took me seriously.

Twice a year, on my birthday and on Christmas day, I threw a party at my house.

My parties were the stuff Legends are made of; too many people, too many drinks, music too loud.

This year, I was going to throw the best party, I was going to make everyone happy.

Because I was sad.

I had never been a happy kid, the class clown, the joker.

It was a farce.

I laughed to cover the pain of my parents leaving me.

I smiled because it masked the hurt from losing my sister.

I cracked those jokes because the laughing faces of my friends helped me forget the sneering faces of those men who broke me that night.

I had to make my friends believe everything was fine because ‘you have to fake it till you make it’.

But were they really my friends?

I was that friend who always counted on to follow you to that doctor’s visit, to attend your aunt’s wedding 2 cities away, to be there for you when your brother was dying of cancer and it was a perfect arrangement because I never asked for anything in return.

I went days without eating, I forgot to attend my classes and my grades were suffering for it, I had been looking more and more dejected everyday, but as long as I was the clown, the joker, it was easier for ‘my friends’ to pretend I was okay.

The day finally came, it was my birthday.

I was so excited. I had been planning for so long!

Hair, nails, outfit, all check!

Food, drinks, music, games, Check!

The invitations had gone out a month ago, the set time was 7:00pm.

It was 6:28pm.

I checked my phone, no missed calls, no messages.

Still early, but they will be here soon.

7:16pm.

I checked my phone, no missed calls, no messages.

Hmmm… Something must be happening. I turned on the TV and checked all the news channels, was there a disaster?

8:33pm.

I checked my phone, no missed calls, no messages.

The candles on my cake had burnt out and a lock of my hair had lost its curl.

It was time to take a bath.

I went upstairs to my room, on the drawer was a little black disc, I picked it up.

I walked to the bathroom, my mind was racing as I filled the tub with very warm water, which I had read somewhere that it helped you feel nothing.

Was I now a burden? If I lost these friends, what exactly was I living for? I wasn’t even doing well at school, so it wasn’t like I even had a bright future. What was the point of it all.

I got into the tub, I used the cherry & raspberry bath bomb, it was so red and smelled so nice.

This was the best way.

I looked at the black disc, the blade, it was a bit rusty but that wouldn’t matter.

I checked my phone, no missed calls, no messages.

I switched off my phone. I guess the party was over.

I never got the message saying “sorry I’m late, you have been looking quite sad lately, so I stopped to get that cheese cake you really like”, “I am running a little late, but I’ve been meaning to ask, is everything okay? Lets talk after your party. See you soon!”, “Hey, I’ve pressed your doorbell 6 times now, is the party over? Where is everyone?”.

I did hear the doorbell, I didn’t hear the crash, I didn’t hear the screams of my name, maybe they should have checked up on me sooner, maybe they should have cared sooner, but it didn’t matter anymore.

I had slit my wrists.

PS: Take a few minutes each day to call up a friend.