MY SUICIDE STORY [Final episode]

How can I be asking this question at this moment? Where went the guts that were having a feast in mind several hours ago? I thought the execution was as easy as having the thought in the first place. All bark and no bite.... Never mind.

I have to do something, and I have to do it now. I can't really tell if my options were increasing or not. Should I summon the exiled courage to get this over with, or should I take another toll of my anger and choose another medium of peace for my flesh? Should I let my empty for mama's past, present and future  win over my frustrations that seemed eternal?

At this juncture, I discovered the unlimited ability of the brain. My thoughts had travelled, camped and even built mansions from end to end. Why now? Why this! Why that! I was the one asking the questions that I'm to answer. I may not be giving the answers, but I know for sure that my zeal to die has not been overcame by other thing; be it sympathy or empathy.
Now it's gaining it's ground again; the zeal to die. I just forgot my care as I began to see myself as a curse. I'm a curse to mama, the one I claim to love and whom I'm considering living for. If I were not born, probably father wouldn't have had any excuse to drink over the uncontrollable thought of poverty residing in his family, which eventually led to his untimely death. If so, mama wouldn't have been a widow yet,she wouldn't have lost all her investments in me. My siblings would have had a better life, better education and what have you.
My thoughts were getting a better direction now. I'm mathematics, when you subtract a negative figure, you'll start gaining. In this case, I'm definitely the negative, probably negative infinity, and mama's care for me and my siblings is the obvious portion that needs to start gaining. If I would have a chance of getting any after life favours, then this is the chance to boost my good deeds; die for your loved ones to get a good life.
With that last line of thought, I extended my neck to pass through the already made loop. I reached out for the joint, to tighten the rope, then I tightened to perfection. Three! Two! One! And I was off the chair as I forced it to quite a distant fall. I could remember vividly how much regret I felt at this point. I struggled to untie the rope which happened to be a successful failure. I stretched my feet to get a balance from the floor below, but I was already a forever-flying young man. I was going out of this life onto the much believed afterlife.
Suddenly, I woke up having a rope tied to my neck and my chair somewhat beside me. The ground was cold except for the portion I arose from. I noticed a little struggle in my throat and it drew my attention to loosening the rope around my neck. What happened!
With the little pain in my neck I tilted my neck upwards to confirm I wasn't dreaming or waking up from one as my thoughts began to assemble again. I had just committed suicide so why am I still alive? If I'm already dead from it then why do I still feel these physical things around me. This feels too real to be "unphysical". Besides, nobody felt father's touch again after he died.
As I raised my head to look at the ceiling fan, I saw the other half of the rope staring at me from the other side of the fan. Jeez! Now I know what had happened. The rope had cut, probably from the weight of my body. Who knows how long the rope has lived seeing that I met it in this house when I moved in four years ago. I wanted to die but I can tell the rope was destined to die earlier than myself.
I had two things in mind as I stood from the floor where I had passed out; firstly, I was seeing the whole rope-cutting thing as some sort of good luck, especially when I remember how I felt along the thin line of dying and living. But I was also seeing another reason to believe I was a perfect failure. I have failed at home, in school, and now, in a simple suicide mission.
I helped my miserable self up to my feet, adjusted the fallen chair, and climbed it to take away the other half of the rope hanging on the fan. I was having contradicting feelings of gratefulness and sadness at the same time. "A man goes as it is written of him",I soliloquised as I began to put the suicide room in order. Maybe I still have to experience more moments of woe before I died. For now, I know I can't sponsor another suicide in my room, even if I could, the aura of failure around me would lead my mission to another loss. I just have to live and face my fears, top of the list now being where I would stay after being chased out of this house in few days time.
THE END