It was a lonely Saturday morning, Mousa woke up with heavy eyes, he had spent the entire night lying down but he couldn’t sleep, the recollection of last night’s breakup came flooding down into his memory, Bridget had called him to their favorite restaurant and broken up with him.
This was his 12th breakup in the span of nine years, Mousa always wondered why his relationships usually fell apart even before he’d had the chance to cement them, the coming along of Bridget had seemed to open up a new dawn in his life, Bridget was different from the 11 girls Mousa had previously dated, Bridget was homely and even though she was pretty, very pretty she was still humble and modest, Mousa loved Bridget to the core hence when Bridget broke up with him he had found it rather too difficult to accept it.
Mousa had made up his mind, his sadness and anguish had driven him deep into rage and despair to the point of no return, if he couldn’t live with Bridget then he might as well not live.
After scribbling down some few lines into his favorite notebook, he sat down to read through what he had written, satisfied with his supposed suicide note, Mousa dropped the notebook on his table, he made his way to the cupboard and pocketed a bottle of sniper which he originally bought for one pesky rat, strangely the rat never returned after he bought the pesticide hence giving him no room to use it.
He made his way out of the house and into the street. It was thirty minutes after eight in the morning when Mousa arrived at the beach, he wanted to end it all under the watchful eyes of the ocean, Mousa loved the ocean and he believed the ocean loved him too, the ocean, he believed, was his best friend.
Within five minutes he was already standing in front of the ocean, he took a deep breath of the salty air, and for a moment he forgot about his sorrow, the ocean knew how to take away his heaviness and make him light albeit temporarily.
He smiled and laid down on the white sand, he stayed this way for almost ten minutes, at this time he’d made up his mind to down the content of the Pesticide he had bought, he sat up and reached into his pocket for the bottle, as he lifted the bottle up, a voice startled him, causing him to drop the bottle, looking up he saw a young lady who was smiling at him, she was pretty, but Mousa was too depressed to care about anyone’s beauty right now, he looked down and stared at the almost empty bottle with the content now gushing into the sand, “I’m such a loser, I can’t even take my life”, Mousa said under his breath.
“Hello!”, this time Mousa looked up and stared at the lady who seemed intent on getting his attention, she most likely was in her early twenties, average in height, slim and well proportioned in the right places, she still had that friendly smile on her face.
“I’ve been observing you from over there since you arrived, are you okay?” Her voice was soft yet strong, Mousa stopped staring, “I was going to be fine, until you came along, you should have stayed away”, he bluntly replied. The lady came closer and picked up the pesticide bottle, she was close, so close that Mousa could smell her, he couldn’t define how she smelt but he could swear that he had never met anyone who smelt so nice.
“Ah, so you were going to take your life by drinking this? A pity, suicide is never a solution.” She looked at Mousa and gave him a light smile, “Care to tell me why a handsome man like you would want to leave this beautiful world?”.
At this point Mousa was getting irritated, this was too much, first she had startled him hence causing him to lose the content of his bottle now she was all over him, even asking him questions like she was his mom, he was going to stand to his feet and scold her severely when she suddenly knelt before him, the sudden action caused some sands to land upon Mousa’s cloth and this further infuriated him, he was going to bark at her when their eyes met, “Shall we begin?”
Her voice did something to Mousa, his anger which was boiling a moment ago was suddenly abated, he stared at her face, it was warm, expectant and joyful, who was she?, he asked himself, with a sigh he started off by telling her about his love life and finally about his breakup with Bridget and how he had come to end his life, by the time he was done, he felt lighter, maybe this was what he needed, someone to talk to, someone who would really listen to him talk about his bullshits without feeling bored or interrupting him, Mousa felt lighter, no, he was light, the burden that weighed him down just some few minutes ago was now inexistent.
“Thank you,” he said, her smile widened, “What’s your name?”, Mousa asked, “Summer, call me Summer”, she replied with the smile still on her face, without giving Mousa a chance to introduce his name the smile left her face and was replaced by a stern, cute look, “You should never, ever contemplate suicide again, think about the pains you’ll cause your loved ones, your mum who carried you for so long in her belly, is this how you intend to pay her back? By taking a life she fought so hard to nurture, causing her to weep and mourn, suicide should never be an option! It’s the most selfish thing anyone can do, you’re only thinking of yourself and that’s wrong, very wrong!”, “I’m sorry”, Mousa interrupted, a bit ashamed of himself now, as he looked up, he noticed a tear drop leave Summer’s eye.
“Are you alright?”, He asked with concern all over his voice, suddenly she burst into tears, with every drop of tear that left her eyes, Mousa felt a stab of pain, he had no idea why she was crying, he wanted to touch her, to clasp his arm around her and console her but he felt it was wrong as he was merely an acquaintance to her, he could only talk to her as she did to him, “Please answer me, what’s wrong?”, Mousa still pressed on.
“I should still be here, if only I had someone to talk to.” She said as she suddenly sprang up from her kneeling position and ran off, Mousa got up too and made to chase after her but decided not to, “Summer wait!”, he shouted while watching her until she disappeared out of view.
Mousa slumped back into the sand, he still felt light but he was sad, she had taken away his gloom but he couldn’t help her pain. He barely knew whom she was except for her name. Mousa made his way to the bar, he intended to use the last money he had with him to drink something, as Mousa took a sip of his chilled Coca-Cola, he checked his watch, it was barely eleven 0’ clock in the morning but he had had enough drama to last him for a month, most importantly he was supposed to be dead already.
There were few customers in the bar and the waiter was making rounds collecting bottles from empty tables when Mousa stopped him, “Hello Sam, sorry to interrupt you, I was thinking if you could help me with some information on someone, I’m not snooping around, I just didn’t get the chance to know more about her and I’d like to find her.” Mousa ended with an expectant grin, “Well, how do I know whom you’re talking about, tell me what you know about her already?”, “Oh yes! Sorry, she’s fair, she should be in her early twenties, average in height, slim and she has a friendly smile too, her name is Summer.”
Mousa observed a change in the waiter’s countenance when he mentioned Summer’s name. “If you’re talking about the Summer I know then she’s dead, she died some few days ago.” The waiter replied with a saddened face as he brought out his phone and showed Mousa her picture for confirmation.
“What! You’re certainly talking about the wrong person”, Mousa said as he took the phone from the waiter, I met her some …”, Mousa’s words trailed off as he saw the picture of Summer on the phone, he suddenly recalled Summer’s last words just before she ran off.
“No, that can’t be”. “Sorry mate, she was a sweet girl, everyone loved her, it’s quite sad.” The waiter said with a sad sigh. “How did she die?” Mousa asked as he looked up at the waiter while returning the phone. “Suicide, she drowned herself, I don’t know why, some said she was depressed; her boyfriend broke up with her in a cruel manner, I don’t know, her body was found over there.”
The waiter concluded while pointing to the direction Summer had ran off to. “I got to go man; I still have lots of stuffs to take care off,” The waiter added as he pocketed his phone, if he had looked back, he’d have observed a little smile playing across Mousa’s face. “I shouldn’t be sad, for her sake, I have to be happy.”