Just breathe

Imran

I had been dragging my happy mood for too long. This had become inevitable. My anger phase drained all my energy. I was tired so much that it felt like if I closed my eyes, I would never be able to get up again. It sounded peaceful until you remembered that you'd be held accountable for your sins after you died.

"Can I be forgiven?" I wondered, flashbacks of my past sins coming back at me: Hamza's blood-dripping face, the principal's anger, and both my parents disappointed looks. I was nothing but pain to them all, and there was only one fix: removing myself from their lives. That was the only way to make their lives better. I took my miserable self away because misery was the dark shadow that always followed me. Even in my so-called happy days, it lurked behind me, hidden in the brightness of the light.

I emptied my bag. Books, stationery, tissues, test papers, chewing gum, a wallet, a power bank, headphones, and a vape all fell on my bed.

First things first. I put my power bank on charge and downloaded songs. Slow songs. Sad songs. Then I checked my wallet. A 500 rupee note lay inside among a few 100 rupee notes. Another 1000 rupee note was tucked safely inside my phone case, hiding behind my college ID, 'for an emergency," as my mother would say. My driver's license, vaccination card, CNIC, and black belt ID were arranged in my wallet one after the other. I might need them, so I threw that back in my bag, along with the tissues, vape, chewing gum, headphones, a notebook, and a pen. I set my bag up at the door and lay awake on my bed, waiting for the snores so I could execute my plan in silence.