The world was rattling endlessly and lamenting over their grief. No one stopped talking. They all wanted to be heard. Nobody wanted to listen. A situation of endless chit-chats and confusion. Among the quagmire, there sat a face, silent and calm, as if lost in some other world. The eyes were still, not clear though. They were too complex to watch. There was a strange silence on her face. A silence that had probably come to her after years of talking and having no listeners. She looked back and did not smile. Hers was a genuine face, a bit worn out but subtle. She appeared to be an introvert trying to fit into this place. She didn’t seem much familiar to the surroundings. She probably was drinking for the first time. While I was observing all this, soft music played in the background and she seemed to love it but wasn’t too open about it. She then took her phone, probably got a call or something and she said a word or two and disconnected the call. It was most probably her mother. As soon as she disconnected, she finished her drink and went out. She had however left her purse. I felt it as my duty to go after her and give it to her, only if it was possible. Just like her, I was sitting there alone, basking in the gloom of my loneliness and observing the strange crowd. I exited the door and looked around. There was a crowd gathered on the road, muttering and whispering about some accident. I struggled through it to see what had happened and I found the girl. She was lying there in a pool of blood. I was distraught. Minutes earlier I had seen her drinking and she looked quite okay. People were talking about how she threw herself in front of the incoming car. I was numb. For that moment, I felt nothing. Someone checked her pulse and …nothing. She was dead. I opened her purse to check if I could find someone to contact. Nothing. I looked around for her phone but couldn’t find it. My thoughts were too scattered to make out what to do next. Somebody had called the ambulance and she was taken away. I got back home, her purse still in my hand. I took it not for money, there was none. I wonder how she paid for the drink at the bar. There was only a piece of paper inside. I was nervous. I didn’t know whether to open it and read or to just throw it away. Finally, I opened it. It read:
“I am glad you found this. I know you will be curious. Everyone is curious when people die or are about to die. It is only then they listen. I just want to tell you that I am ending this life not because I am selfish or a coward, as many people would say. I am a brave girl who fought for too long. I fought with my family, with friends and with my lover. I fought with every person I found. Why? Because nobody listened to me. Because I had a story to tell, I had feelings to share. But nobody heard. They all said just one thing that I was mad. I was depressed and that I need help. But even if I did, they weren’t there. They didn’t want to hear a thing. That was the only help I needed but never got. So here I am. I will probably jump off a building or throw myself in front of a running car. But please don’t be scared. I am happy to have my words heard. At last. I hope I find peace on the other side, if it exists. Thank you for listening, it was all I needed.”
By the end of the letter, I was stunned. I did not cry. I folded it back again and put it back where it belonged. I continued with my daily life. But with one change. I decided to hear when people want to be heard and I decided to not keep my story inside. I will give it a form, maybe written words. But I will not die.