The Fall: Mehlo'Amanzi

Chapter Four : Tick Tock.

'Stole it from my mom's stash,' Kamo added, after she pulled a bottle of red wine under her bed. She popped the lid out, 'you want some?'

I took it with no hesitation. I gulped it.

She snatched it back, 'easy. You are not trying to die, are you?'

She had a few sips. Eventually, the liquid felt like heat on her throat and she coughed. For the first time that day, I laughed. While the moon shined its brightness through the curtains, we remained silent and listened to the night creatures as we laid besides each other on the floor.

'Did you ever stop?'

'What?'

'Grieving for him,' my eyes rolled over to the right side to look at an image of her father on her wall, '...and him too.'

Silence. A heavy sigh. She said, 'it gets easier over time.'

'How?'

'Acceptance.'

Again. Silence. So loud we could hear Zoey's toy from the living room, beeping.

'I am scared, Kamo.'

'It is okay. I'm here for you.'

'But you are hurting too.'

'I'll be strong enough for the both of us.'

You would not have known me, if it were not for Kamo. She saved my life when we were 13. In every obstacle I face in life, she is right there besides me, holding my hand. Just as Matthew's 5 : 4 says,

'Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted,' read Kamo. Then she shut her Bible closed.

'What is the point? I failed to save Vee.'

'You did not know she would attempt. It is not your fault. I know what it feels like to--'

'No, you do not!' I interrupted her, 'I am a failure. I do not deserve your sympathy. I am the one who chose to act upon Sasa's advice.'

'Sasa? Wait. What does she have to do with this?'

'I told her Vee was acting strange. Her eyes were always red and swollen. Sasa adviced me it's best I give Vuyiswa space, that she would talk to me when she is ready to,' I added. 'We were both wrong! Maybe her silence was a sign that she needed help.'

'But you both did not know, Phi.' Kamo concluded. 'You both loved Vuyiswa. We all did. Had we known that this day would come, we would have done everything in our power to save her. But we couldn't. We did not know. It is not anyone's fault.'

I know this sounds crazy? But I was angry at Sasa, for telling me that Vuyiswa had passed away. It is something I did not want to hear, something I was not ready to hear. So in my mind, I keep her alive. That is why, you are reading this. I want you to know that Vuyiswa is still alive.
It was in that moment when I realised, I screwed up. I pushed Sasa too far away. I neglected her pain, and nursed my own. She needed my comfort. She needed a shoulder to cry on. She was hurting, too. It was about time that I right my wrongs. That I put a bandage on the cut I had sliced in her heart. An apology was not enough, I had to show up for her too.
Anger - the next emotion I felt during grief. I wanted someone to take the fall for Vuyiswa's suicide. I wanted someone to blame. However, each finger I ever pointed, pointed right back at me too. The truth is, I did not want to acknowledge that I was guilty of not doing things I could have done, so I rather blamed it on someone else because it was easier.
Sasa was like the moon. The moon is like a torch, useful at night. Since she became a part of my life, she shaped me into becoming a better person. We found God together. We grew together in different seasons. Now grief was a really challenging phase we were in; a journey we were forced to take but chose to do it together. The more I allowed Sasa to speak about her emotions and the more I tried to understand her mental state, I realised there are battles my loved ones face that I am not aware of. One of the things Vuyiswa's cause of passing has taught me, is that it is extremely important to check up on your people.
I fear for Bonolo. The amount of times I cross fingers for her? I still pray she wins the battle against depression. I remember a couple of months earlier that year, sometime in May, I paid her a visit. Playlist was RnB, a few snacks chew on whist she prepared pancakes for us, including great laughter... I thought she was happy. Until she left me alone in her bedroom and I noticed a diary on top of her bedside drawer. Listen, I do not snoop around, but a little voice inside me told me to open that book. A pen was stuck in between the pages she was yet to continue writing on. It was in that moment when I receive a great shock upon my life. Bonolo was writing a suicidal note for months.

'Pancakes are ready!' she yelled. I put her diary book right where I found it, as soon as I head her footsteps on the hallway.

Bonolo laid next to me while we watched a movie - Missing, a story by Sev Ohanian and Aneesh Chaganty. Her head rested on my collarbone for me to smell the shampoo on her hair. I kissed her forehead and felt her squeeze my waist closer to her body. She stretched her forearm to massage my jawline. I noticed the new cuts below her wrist.

'Do they hurt?'

'A little bit.'

I let Bonolo bleed on me. Never once will I ever judge someone for self-harming. I know what it is like to hurt yourself physically to not feel the pain emotionally.

'When did you relapse?'

'A couple of days ago.'

'You should have called me.'

'I didn't want to wake you up.'

'You could never disturb me.'

'I know. But this was the last time.'

'Promise?'

'I want to. I'm just not sure if I can keep my promise.'

As I recalled this memory, it triggered a flashback I thought I had buried from my memory.
A couple of hours before The Revue, Vuyiswa's face was filled with tears in the girls bathroom. I was with her. I wiped her tears off her eyelids. I did not know she was a victim of self-harm too. It escalated to being an attempt at suicide that she survived at first. I rubbed the big lump of scar on her wrist.

'Does it hurt?'

'Not anymore.'

Suddenly I heard a voice echoing in my ears. 'Phindiwe, did you hear me?'

Oh. Right. I was at the grocery store with my mother. 'What do you feel like eating tonight - chicken or beef?'

I paid her no mind. My eyes were glued to the girl with the white headwrap and a red dress. She carried a pink backpack I know her. I know her.

'Phindiwe? What's wrong?' my mother's voice sounded so clear to me.

I stormed off. I heard her call out my name behind me. Still, I paid her no mind. I know that girl. I know that girl!

'Vuyiswa!' I yelled, running across the grocery store.

I told you, I knew this girl. She had a white headwrap. Red clothes. The pink backpack? Come on, this was Vuyiswa!
My mother was left behind, confused. She ran after me as I continued to yell out a deceased person's name. I caused commotion at the grocery store. But in my mind, it made sense. I knew what I saw, who I saw.

When I got a chance to hold that girl before she got away, I squeezed the flesh on her shoulders. 'Vuyiswa?'

My smile faded. Whose face was this?

'Let go! Let go!' I heard her cry. She added, 'who are you and what do you want from me?'

'I-- sorry, I-- No but--' I stuttered.

My mother held a firm grip of my shoulder and whispered in my ear, 'Let's go home.'

As my mother carried me away from the embarrassment I had just caused, I blinked my eyes rapidly and my breathing grew heavily. I know what you are thinking. What had just happened? I do not know too. All I know is, that girl looked like Vuyiswa, but when I flipped her body to face me, it was no longer her. It-it-it sounds crazy, I know. But I know what I saw.

'Phindi,' my mother complained, with a concern in her voice. 'Do you want to go back to therapy?'

My eyes were clouded by tears. Is this what grief looks like? First, I was in disbelief that Sasa broke the news to me. Later, I grew so angry because I acted upon her advice. Suddenly, I am "seeing" Vuyiswa? Maybe you mourn differently, you tell me. Is this what grief looks like, I ask yet again? Maybe I was never angry at Sasa in the beginning, nor blamed her when we were both not at fault. After all, we both had no idea this day would come. But it is possible that I refuse to live in this reality. Have I gotten so denial of the truth, that I have become delusional...?