My dark pit of hell

Reads: 140  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 30, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 30, 2014



No one but I know what a chocking effect DEBTarrow-10x10.png\" can have on a person.  I’m a struggling single mother who gets no support financially from my child’s father.  Not that I’m supposed to be reliant on it, but all school fees and bills need to be paid.  The school doesn’t care to hear that we have a failing social justice system that doesn’t give a shit about the fact that you are 50 grand out of pocket thanks to the father or that it has cost you 10 grand in lawyer’s fees to hold him too book, which by the way I’ve had to borrow and pay back.  The past few months have been extremely dark for me and suicide thoughts lurches more and more every day.  Crawling up on me and pouncing every so thoughtfully on me reminding me that there is another way out.  Especially when I get the phone calls or emails from the banks or lawyers demanding that I pay up my debt owing to the banks and for my car.  Again they don’t care to hear how destitute you are or how you struggle on a monthly basis, how some nights you don’t even have food to eat or have petrol money to get to work. 

My DEBTarrow-10x10.png\" chokes me like a iron rod.  This plan that scheme fails left right and centre as I try to find a means to an end.  Then the dark thoughts rise again, how it’s better if I’m not here, how  they win, they get what they wanted.  I think in my dark mind do I take my son with me when I off myself or do I leave him to be raised by his delinquent father.  My family and friends will be highly pissed off, but then again I don’t give a shit, I’m gone, I’ve offed myself.  I’ve solved the problem.  These are my demons my dark hollowing fears that haunt me day in and day out that make me depressed, that make me cry into my pillow where no one sees or hears me.  You see, unlike most of my friends who have the luxury of a partner with loads of money or parents who are there for them and can bail them out I have neither.  But boy oh boy will I get patronised, asking “whats wrong is everything ok”?
I have a 62 year old father who lives in a RDP house in KZN and a mother who works for 4 grand a month only to pay half of that towards her lodging.  They both fucked up their lives and squandered any hopes for themselves or their children when they drank it up and smoked up it for years.  My last resort is my godfather but I know now what he’ll say when we broach the subject about my DEBTarrow-10x10.png\".  He’ll tell me like the last time he can’t risk lending against his bond, because if I don’t pay the loan he’ll lose his house.  And as right as he is I can’t risk doing that my godfather having him lose his house to bail me out of my shit.  You see I’m not ignorant of the fact that there are people who have it ten times worse off than I do.  But I never dreamt in my wildest dreams it would be like this.  That my life from birth would be a monotonous struggle constantly fighting a torrent of foaming water that overwhelms me and swallows me bit by bit.  Those who are dead and not with us have it easy.  They don’t know what pain, tears, worries or anger is.  They don’t understand resentment.  It sure is dark and lonely no light is shining at the end of my tunnel.  So don’t tell me that its’ gonna be ok, the sun is gonna shine tomorrow.  I’m happy for you, because that is a astrological law the sun has to shine, the moon has to set.  But my problems my worries, my demons, the phone calls the letters, the attorney’s don’t stop. 
Your friends get sick and tired of you hearing you talk about your dreary existence about the problems you have and the child hood you didn’t have.  Compassion, sympathy is a bygone theory, people no longer possess that.  So when I yearn for company or the solution of a partner I hope for someone that will catch me when I fall that will help me sort out my 200 grand’s worth of DEBTarrow-10x10.png\".  That will show me and comfort me knowing that his love his touch is real and that he is there and that everything is o.k.  But this too hasn’t happened, and 6 years later down the line when everyone else has had their happy endings and their sweet ever afters, I’m still stuck like a fly in a spider’s web, having the cocoon spun tighter and tighter around my neck! And if you are angry with me because of what I’m feeling tough shit.  I really honestly don’t give a damn anymore.  I always have to hear how strong I am and how I will muster things and get through it, but no one but no one listens when I say that I’m done, I’ve had it, that I can’t anymore.

© Copyright 2017 Jeraque. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More True Confessions Scripts

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Jeraque


Short Story / Romance

In the throes of passion

Short Story / Romance

Your Voyage

Short Story / Religion and Spirituality

Popular Tags