The rope had been tied up
tighty on the beam, It hurt, it gnawed at him and it triggered a
tearfall from his big eyes. Memories of bitter rejection
from his own and the unknown. Right from his own parents and his brothers. He was the third born of a family of five. At five, they discovered that his bowels could not hold, he would mess himself very often. By the time he hit puberty his self-esteem was shattered, his self-worth disappeared, he could not look at the mirror without weeping and he was cloaked in self-pity. None of his classmates would make him a deskmate and during break none would make him a playmate. He sat everyday on a rock his head clamped in his hands. He was smelly actually he smelt like shit. He did not understand why he had no friends, his condition was not of his own making, he didn't create himself and he never intended to reek like a toilet.
His teachers never made things any easier, because his grades always teetered on the edge of failure. Poor grades and embarrassingly low marks never endeared him to teachers and made him an object of ridicule and mockery among fellow pupils.If they only knew his confidence was rock bottom and that meant doubt in his abilities, he was blinded and deafened by his horrible weakness that he had no control over. He was talented, he could dance, but he was always one dance move away from messing himself up. One day he was deeply hurt when a teacher in front of a class ready to laugh at him said with his poor grades the best he must hope for was to be a toilet cleaner and his condition was an automatic qualification.
Back at home, his parents berated him for his poor performance to an extent his father railed that he regrets his birth everyday since it brought him shame. He once heard his parents in a heated argument and his father questioned the mother over his fatherhood or whether he was a product of a rape which no one knows about. His mother took her frustration out on him and treated him like a step-son. He didn't get new clothes, he washed his own mess, he slept on the floor since they could not afford to wash the sheets he had soiled on everyday, he ate away from the dinner table, in church he sat on his own pew. They tried corrective surgery but it failed, he was beyond repair, beyond any mending and that made his dreams and ambitions crash from the sky. No more money would be wasted on his body, his aunts and uncles kept a distance fearing a "curse". He tried approaching his pastor, a servant of God but his evangelistic schedule was not able to accomodate him but it somehow fit men and women who presented their hefty cheques and gifts to him for promotions and healings. All he wanted was a prayer, he prayed for himself and he wasn't selfish, he prayed for others too who suffered like him, he even prayed for World peace where love would reign.
He had never experienced love. His bowel condition robbed him of all love, his youngest brother even blurted out that he would never get married. And who would he marry? Girls covered their noses at his sight and ladies in his youthful years rejected him outright, it did not matter how many bottles of cologne he emptied, they stayed away. His peers insulted him from all directions, they told him he couldn't hang, he wasn't among the boys. They ruthlessly called him demeaning names. Walking toilet, sewage plant, the real shit and others. He never had a social life, he wanted to laugh at jokes and share his thoughts but wasn't accepted, he was lonely. Then one day that all seemed to change. He was having a pity party when a beautiful siren approached him. He was very surprised. Someone was finally paying attention. He told her everything, his struggles, his suffering, he told her every detail of his forsaken life. The lady agreed to help and she got his consent to help, she knew a doctor who would make it all go away, who would re-construct his life from dejected ruin. She would use her influence to gather well wishers and contribute enough money for one last chance at being a human being.
He was excited and encouraged as he saw the leaves of proformers go round, the printed t-shirts with his name on them, finally an angel on earth had been sent to lift his misery. for the first time he would smile, laugh, he would enjoy what he could not in his childhood he was as happy as a king. He imagined a new life of ressurected dreams. One and a half month later no doctor, no surgery, the initiative had vanished, the cause was no more, he had been used and he had fallen for it. Nobody came to congrajulate him on his good fortune. Agitated, he confronted the lady, she admitted that he was seen as an opportunity to get easy money. The money that was supposed to help him was just enough to raise for air tickets for members of a certain social club to travel abroad and back for an important forum. At home his parents were upset with him for wasting their time and hopes. Today all that misery would go away. His body shook,his heart pounded, he was dripping sweat. He closed his eyes and wore the noose round his neck.
from his own and the unknown. Right from his own parents and his brothers. He was the third born of a family of five. At five, they discovered that his bowels could not hold, he would mess himself very often. By the time he hit puberty his self-esteem was shattered, his self-worth disappeared, he could not look at the mirror without weeping and he was cloaked in self-pity. None of his classmates would make him a deskmate and during break none would make him a playmate. He sat everyday on a rock his head clamped in his hands. He was smelly actually he smelt like shit. He did not understand why he had no friends, his condition was not of his own making, he didn't create himself and he never intended to reek like a toilet.
His teachers never made things any easier, because his grades always teetered on the edge of failure. Poor grades and embarrassingly low marks never endeared him to teachers and made him an object of ridicule and mockery among fellow pupils.If they only knew his confidence was rock bottom and that meant doubt in his abilities, he was blinded and deafened by his horrible weakness that he had no control over. He was talented, he could dance, but he was always one dance move away from messing himself up. One day he was deeply hurt when a teacher in front of a class ready to laugh at him said with his poor grades the best he must hope for was to be a toilet cleaner and his condition was an automatic qualification.
Back at home, his parents berated him for his poor performance to an extent his father railed that he regrets his birth everyday since it brought him shame. He once heard his parents in a heated argument and his father questioned the mother over his fatherhood or whether he was a product of a rape which no one knows about. His mother took her frustration out on him and treated him like a step-son. He didn't get new clothes, he washed his own mess, he slept on the floor since they could not afford to wash the sheets he had soiled on everyday, he ate away from the dinner table, in church he sat on his own pew. They tried corrective surgery but it failed, he was beyond repair, beyond any mending and that made his dreams and ambitions crash from the sky. No more money would be wasted on his body, his aunts and uncles kept a distance fearing a "curse". He tried approaching his pastor, a servant of God but his evangelistic schedule was not able to accomodate him but it somehow fit men and women who presented their hefty cheques and gifts to him for promotions and healings. All he wanted was a prayer, he prayed for himself and he wasn't selfish, he prayed for others too who suffered like him, he even prayed for World peace where love would reign.
He had never experienced love. His bowel condition robbed him of all love, his youngest brother even blurted out that he would never get married. And who would he marry? Girls covered their noses at his sight and ladies in his youthful years rejected him outright, it did not matter how many bottles of cologne he emptied, they stayed away. His peers insulted him from all directions, they told him he couldn't hang, he wasn't among the boys. They ruthlessly called him demeaning names. Walking toilet, sewage plant, the real shit and others. He never had a social life, he wanted to laugh at jokes and share his thoughts but wasn't accepted, he was lonely. Then one day that all seemed to change. He was having a pity party when a beautiful siren approached him. He was very surprised. Someone was finally paying attention. He told her everything, his struggles, his suffering, he told her every detail of his forsaken life. The lady agreed to help and she got his consent to help, she knew a doctor who would make it all go away, who would re-construct his life from dejected ruin. She would use her influence to gather well wishers and contribute enough money for one last chance at being a human being.
He was excited and encouraged as he saw the leaves of proformers go round, the printed t-shirts with his name on them, finally an angel on earth had been sent to lift his misery. for the first time he would smile, laugh, he would enjoy what he could not in his childhood he was as happy as a king. He imagined a new life of ressurected dreams. One and a half month later no doctor, no surgery, the initiative had vanished, the cause was no more, he had been used and he had fallen for it. Nobody came to congrajulate him on his good fortune. Agitated, he confronted the lady, she admitted that he was seen as an opportunity to get easy money. The money that was supposed to help him was just enough to raise for air tickets for members of a certain social club to travel abroad and back for an important forum. At home his parents were upset with him for wasting their time and hopes. Today all that misery would go away. His body shook,his heart pounded, he was dripping sweat. He closed his eyes and wore the noose round his neck.
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