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DIARY OF A SURVIVOR
Diary of a survivor: Chapter 2
When Grace first moved into our neighbourhood, I always thought her to be snobbish; same as the other kids in the neighbourhood. She was always walking fast, heads up and looking straight; almost as if she was in a walking competition. A lot of the neighbourhood girls would gossip about her. Sometimes even in her presence. She seemed to have an I-don't-care attitude towards them. Turns out she actually cared. She cared about what they said about her and she wished she could make them change the speculations about her. The boys just thought she playing hard to get and that sooner or later, either of them would get closer to her. But with Grace, that was almost impossible. I'm not really sure why the girls hated her; probably because she was pretty, I don't know.
But that pretty face is gone. I remember when I went for her funeral at the cemetery. The dress code for the burial was black but I just couldn't bring myself to wear that colour.
""Chinwe, why do they like to wear black at burials""...she asked me one day.
"" How do you expect me to know,, am I the master of burials "".. I replied, pleased at my humorous statement.
"" I'm serious "".. She retorted, frowning.
"OK.. Don't eat me"".. I replied, laughing. "" Maybe"... I continued, "" because it's kind of a sad colour.. So it goes with the occasion ""
"" It's too dull. Everyone at the funeral will be looking like dead bodies themselves ""... She said
"" Graceeee"".. I yelled
""It's true "".. She replied. "" I don't know about you but as for me, I'll prefer purple or blue.. No.. No.. Purple.. Yes.. Purple.. People should wear purple at my own funeral""
""Wow.. I didn't realise you were this jobless.. So you're already preparing your burial outfit now, when you're going to die maybe in 100 years time"".. I said
Grace opened her mouth wide and started laughing.
I continued..""You would have said they should wear Gucci clothes for you,, and even wear Brazilian wig for you""
""Very funny"".. She replied, sarcastically.
""Alright, Madam funeral,, Purple it is!!.. I said.
I didn't find it strange when people were looking at me at her funeral, with strange expressions on their faces. I didn't care. I was fulfilling my best friend's wishes. And they wouldn't understand.
I can still remember how she looked when she died. I had called that night and she sounded weird,kind of tired. I asked her what the problem was, she told me not to worry. So I told her that I'd be coming over the next morning, then probably we would talk about what was bothering her. Little did I know that my best friend was gone long before she was gone. I arrived at her house exactly 9:32. I greeted her mom and asked of Grace. Her mom said she had not come out from her room and that I could go see her in the room.
"" Good morning, madam Grace. I hope you.....""
I was cut short by the most dreadful thing I had ever seen in my life. My best friend was dead, in her own pool of blood. I screamed on the top of my voice, signaling to anyone that could hear to come.
Grace was on her bed, almost as if she was sleeping. The plain white bedsheet and duvet were covered with blood. Beside her was a note, and her diary clutched to her chest. Grace had stabbed herself.
““Blood of Jesus””.. Her mother screamed as she entered the room.
I forgot that I was putting on a yellow dress and that it could probably be stained with blood. I quickly ran over to her and grasped her in my hands. The tears rolled down endlessly as I felt her lifeless body.
““Grace, please stand up. Grace, please. Graceee.. Please.. You promised to tell me what was wrong today.. Grace, please tell me this is a prank.. Grace, Grace.. Grace.. Tell me where I'm going to get another best friend.. Grace, don't do this to me.. Graceee””...that was when I realised she was gone. Gone forever. My best friend was gone.
Her father called the police and they came over with an emergency squad and an ambulance. They pleaded with everyone to stand back. Probably I could not hear or I decided not to heed, either of the two. They dragged me from the body. The police asked me of my parents. After several attempts to talk to me, they couldn't. I was unconscious of the happenings around me. They finally got answers from someone else. I just stared blankly as they carried her body. The police officers wanted to take me to the station for interrogation. It was not until we were about to enter the vehicle that I became conscious. I looked around and saw that Grace was in the emergency vehicle. I broke myself loose from the hands of the officers and ran to her. The emergency nurse blocked me from going close to her. Before I knew what was happening, I was on the floor. I had fainted.
I woke up at the police station. I was in one of the interrogation rooms.
““Where is Grace??””... I muttered.
““Probably on the way to the mortuary””... The officer replied. ““We will get an autopsy report by next week. That brings us to the reason why you are here. You were the only person in the room when she died. What were you doing there??””... He inquired
““We had planned to meet the previous night, that's why I was at her house that morning””.. I answered
““Did you two have a misunderstanding before then””.. He asked again
““What are you insinuating, officer””.. I said angrily
After a series of interrogation, I was dispersed. I met my parents outside and we all headed home. I was silent throughout the journey. I just kept thinking.. ““Why would Grace commit suicide? Or did someone kill her””
When Grace first moved into our neighbourhood, I always thought her to be snobbish; same as the other kids in the neighbourhood. She was always walking fast, heads up and looking straight; almost as if she was in a walking competition. A lot of the neighbourhood girls would gossip about her. Sometimes even in her presence. She seemed to have an I-don't-care attitude towards them. Turns out she actually cared. She cared about what they said about her and she wished she could make them change the speculations about her. The boys just thought she playing hard to get and that sooner or later, either of them would get closer to her. But with Grace, that was almost impossible. I'm not really sure why the girls hated her; probably because she was pretty, I don't know.
But that pretty face is gone. I remember when I went for her funeral at the cemetery. The dress code for the burial was black but I just couldn't bring myself to wear that colour.
""Chinwe, why do they like to wear black at burials""...she asked me one day.
"" How do you expect me to know,, am I the master of burials "".. I replied, pleased at my humorous statement.
"" I'm serious "".. She retorted, frowning.
"OK.. Don't eat me"".. I replied, laughing. "" Maybe"... I continued, "" because it's kind of a sad colour.. So it goes with the occasion ""
"" It's too dull. Everyone at the funeral will be looking like dead bodies themselves ""... She said
"" Graceeee"".. I yelled
""It's true "".. She replied. "" I don't know about you but as for me, I'll prefer purple or blue.. No.. No.. Purple.. Yes.. Purple.. People should wear purple at my own funeral""
""Wow.. I didn't realise you were this jobless.. So you're already preparing your burial outfit now, when you're going to die maybe in 100 years time"".. I said
Grace opened her mouth wide and started laughing.
I continued..""You would have said they should wear Gucci clothes for you,, and even wear Brazilian wig for you""
""Very funny"".. She replied, sarcastically.
""Alright, Madam funeral,, Purple it is!!.. I said.
I didn't find it strange when people were looking at me at her funeral, with strange expressions on their faces. I didn't care. I was fulfilling my best friend's wishes. And they wouldn't understand.
I can still remember how she looked when she died. I had called that night and she sounded weird,kind of tired. I asked her what the problem was, she told me not to worry. So I told her that I'd be coming over the next morning, then probably we would talk about what was bothering her. Little did I know that my best friend was gone long before she was gone. I arrived at her house exactly 9:32. I greeted her mom and asked of Grace. Her mom said she had not come out from her room and that I could go see her in the room.
"" Good morning, madam Grace. I hope you.....""
I was cut short by the most dreadful thing I had ever seen in my life. My best friend was dead, in her own pool of blood. I screamed on the top of my voice, signaling to anyone that could hear to come.
Grace was on her bed, almost as if she was sleeping. The plain white bedsheet and duvet were covered with blood. Beside her was a note, and her diary clutched to her chest. Grace had stabbed herself.
““Blood of Jesus””.. Her mother screamed as she entered the room.
I forgot that I was putting on a yellow dress and that it could probably be stained with blood. I quickly ran over to her and grasped her in my hands. The tears rolled down endlessly as I felt her lifeless body.
““Grace, please stand up. Grace, please. Graceee.. Please.. You promised to tell me what was wrong today.. Grace, please tell me this is a prank.. Grace, Grace.. Grace.. Tell me where I'm going to get another best friend.. Grace, don't do this to me.. Graceee””...that was when I realised she was gone. Gone forever. My best friend was gone.
Her father called the police and they came over with an emergency squad and an ambulance. They pleaded with everyone to stand back. Probably I could not hear or I decided not to heed, either of the two. They dragged me from the body. The police asked me of my parents. After several attempts to talk to me, they couldn't. I was unconscious of the happenings around me. They finally got answers from someone else. I just stared blankly as they carried her body. The police officers wanted to take me to the station for interrogation. It was not until we were about to enter the vehicle that I became conscious. I looked around and saw that Grace was in the emergency vehicle. I broke myself loose from the hands of the officers and ran to her. The emergency nurse blocked me from going close to her. Before I knew what was happening, I was on the floor. I had fainted.
I woke up at the police station. I was in one of the interrogation rooms.
““Where is Grace??””... I muttered.
““Probably on the way to the mortuary””... The officer replied. ““We will get an autopsy report by next week. That brings us to the reason why you are here. You were the only person in the room when she died. What were you doing there??””... He inquired
““We had planned to meet the previous night, that's why I was at her house that morning””.. I answered
““Did you two have a misunderstanding before then””.. He asked again
““What are you insinuating, officer””.. I said angrily
After a series of interrogation, I was dispersed. I met my parents outside and we all headed home. I was silent throughout the journey. I just kept thinking.. ““Why would Grace commit suicide? Or did someone kill her””
