Nonhlanhla - Fortunate

Ten

"Don't move, I've stitched up the cuts on your face and on your arms but I still need to send you for x rays to make sure none of your bones are broken and that your skull is fine ok?!"

I barely hear the doctor rattle off to me before he leaves me in the infirmary.

Now that I am alone and somewhat secure, I begin to calm down and I can almost feel the adrenaline slowly leave my body. The feelings of pain begin and before long its just about all I can feel.

My head is throbbing, my limbs hurt to the point where I can barely lift them and it feels like pain vibrates through my ribs every time I take a deep breathe.

I lean back onto the pillow and close my eyes for a second. Yep, it feels like I've been run over by a truck, but I guess being ambushed and stomped on by 4 to 5 guys, is basically the same thing.

It's my fault they caught me off guard. I was so stupid to walk alone like that. Max and his possy were just waiting for a chance to get at me and I handed it to them on a silver platter.

It's a miracle that a guard came past when they did or else I would be dead or in a coma right now.

I want to bang my head against the bed post or any solid surface for being that stupid.

I just... I just wanted a quiet place to think after speaking to my mom. Since my shared cell hardly has privacy and the yard is never quiet, I opted for a dark passageway. I just needed to take a breathe and before I even knew it I was surrounded and over powered. All I could think of was trying to protect my head from being cracked open like an egg.

Despite all of this, I still can't get my mother's voice out of my head. I have never disappointed her, never. I was never that child and I am not that person, I always made my parents proud... Always did the right thing. I made sure my parents never worried about me and my decisions. They always trusted my judgement...until now.

When uMama answered the phone, I could tell from her voice, she knew. In a way I was relieved that she wouldn't be hearing it from me, for the first time. I know .... I'm a terrible person and an even worse husband.

uMama said as much and more... after she asked me if I was ok. If only she knew what would happen after our call.

I try not to move as much, looking around the infirmary, just making sure I am actually safe.

While looking around, I notice the body on the bed next to me, covered in a white sheet, shivering and snivelling. Figures, at least I'm not the only person who got beaten up in here recently. When he turns around, curling himself into a fetal position, I recognise him as the boy I came in with who was sniveling even then.

From what I could see of his face, it was littered with bruising in different colours and it was still swollen. He looked really rough but I'm hardly one to judge. I haven't seen a mirror since they brought me in but I doubt I look that much better than he does.

Through the pain that fogs my throbbing head, I felt my stomach drop with dread. I have more than a sneaking suspicion of how he ended up here.

Quite frankly I'm surprised they didn't put him on suicide watch but I guess they really couldn't care less whether we live or die in here. I look away, staring at the ceiling and my mother's words come back to me.

I know what I should do but I really don't need anymore problems to deal with. And yet her voice, it almost haunts me. "Undiphoxile sana lam! ( You have disappointed me, my son) We raised you to be better than this Thamsanqa!" Her voice was low but firm. Honestly, I would have preferred her loud wrath and anger over the sad disappointment and helplessness I heard in her voice today.

There's no way around it, I've failed her as a son. I've failed as a husband and a father to my family.

I Warren Thamsanqa Adams - am failure in life.

The thought alone makes it hard for me to breathe and the feeling of despair starts ti sink in.

No! No! I can't do this here, I can't do this now. I can't fall apart, I don't have the time and the luxury of falling apart. I feel anxious and an urgent panic come over me.

I need a plan, i need to make a plan to survive this place, to survive this or I will die a failure. I can't die a failure! I refuse for this to be the last thing my son remembers about me!

Before, I can stop myself, I whisper to him, "Hey!,Hey!" His eyes look towards me, "yeah, do you remember me?", he nods slowly, not moving from his fetal position. The look in his eyes, reflects the emotions I fear feeling.

Hopelessness, despair, anxiety and desperation.

"You're gonna get through this ok, you can't let this be it." I know I'm speaking to him, but in a way, it feels like I'm trying to encourage myself too.

I see him start to cry while shaking his head. " No, no, no, listen here, there's no time for that. No one cares, do you hear me?! Nobody cares! I know its mean to say but its the truth. No one cares and wallowing in self pity doesn't help at all and, and killing yourself won't change anything either!" He remains silent, so I continue.

"Tomorrow, there will be another you that will walk though those gates and they will do the same thing him, and so it won't matter. It will be like you never existed and you would have died for nothing! Do you hear me?!"

I don't hear a response, just him snivelling again but nothing to indicate he heard me. Instead he curls himself deeper into the fetal position and just lies there.

If I had the luxury of time, I would try to be more sensitive but don't have time to sugar coat this for this kid. The realities of this place are harsh and cruel and I suspect that he is planning to hang himself soon. I would prefer he didn't or at least, he not do it in my presence, I can't have that on what's left of my conscious.

Unsurprisingly, my parents raised me to stand up for what is right, and help those in need. Right now I need to find a compromise between that and surviving in here because charity, will not do me any favours in here. Ultimately, I am willing do what I need to to survive and I need to know if this kid is too far gone or if he still has some fight left in him.

In fact, I need a plan, for when I get out of the infirmary... I'm sure by now, news of my beat down has spread far and wide so I will need to respond in kind or it will be open season on me until I'm dead.

"Hey, what's your name?" He doesn't respond immediately, I almost think he didn't hear me. He just shakes his head and I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean so I continue.

"I'm Thami" and I try to smile but all I can manage is a grimace. The amount of pain I am feeling, continues to increase and eventually, I can't keep talking, so I close my eyes and try to breathe slowly.

Time seems to crawl endlessly before the doctor comes back to check up on us. The doctor calls the boy Shawn and gives him an injection for the pain and then I am taken for my x-ray scans.

After they finish my scans, I'm also given pain meds which make me feel like I'm floating and take away the pain. Before long, I'm drousy and fall asleep.

As I sleep, I dream of my ideal world.

My wife, my son and my parents living normal, safe and basic lives. I would play soccer with my son in the back yard and I would teach him how to ride a bike. We would have a white picket fence with another baby on the way.

No lies, no secrets, no danger....the perfect dream.