IF I COULD GET ANOTHER CHANCE

IF I COULD GET ANOTHER CHANCE

It takes only a minute for ones course of life to change. Learning to cope with something traumatizing can be quite scary. I always have this fear which causes my legs and hands to shake. A screeching of a car can make me jump on my feet and my level of alertness has really increased. The events of the fateful day have been a major turning point in my life. My passion and addiction of playing violin which its music was like sweet melody to my ears, have now turned to noise to my ear. I still haven’t been able to touch the violin or play it. The unwavering feeling of shame and guilt has left me disoriented and disillusioned. Only one question comes to mind. Is it so impossible to have it all?

             The sun was shining brightly outside, most of the students either stood or sat in pairs. Everyone was looking forward to the orchestra. I really wanted to join them in the celebration but my somber mood, the endless condolence message and murmurs whenever I pass by, were really getting on my nerves. My friends and teachers tell me I had gotten withdrawn which explained why I had been referred to the guidance and counseling office. She’d told me I could take some time and recount the events of the fateful day whenever I felt ready to speak up.  

It has been three weeks yet the nightmares and constant recollection of the fateful day are still fresh in my mind. The day had not started out well. My parents had insisted that we go to the boat house for the weekend yet I loathed the place. They had always had a great attachment to the place. My mother was the kind of person to be admired by many. She was always warm and in a good mood even when we brushed shoulders. My father had been visionary while my mother was always the efficient one with both doing more hours to try and make the ends meet. Thus, the boat house reminded them of the hard earned money.

 I was their only child, this explains why I was hardly happy to hear people discussing birth-control as it keeps others from being born. An argument had ensued and I remember grumbling all the way to the boat house. On arrival, I ran straight to my room and locked myself in. I had carried my violin during this trip, so I decided to spend the rest of the evening playing it. I never went down for dinner despite my mum calling me to come join them. I can hardly explain the events that followed. I remember going down the stairs for a glass of water but was shocked to see my father lying in a pool of blood and my mother collapsed on the couch. I could hear the police siren from a distance. Nevertheless, I woke up in the hospital bed surrounded by my grand-mother who was crying uncontrollably as she mumbled what seemed like a prayer.

I learnt later that my mother must have collapsed when he saw the thugs shoot my dad. This greatly affected her as she is still in a state of comma. Ever since then, I can’t help blaming myself.  If I would not have been playing the violin maybe I would have seen the thugs come and at least save my father. Mrs Clinton, our counseling mistress had been silent all along. She had given me time to speak what I had been holding onto for so long. Actually, I felt quite relieved. We made an agreement that we meet after three days and I could only look forward to it.

My mother always told me I was destined for greatness. Just like the sand flowing in an hour glass, so is the ever ticking of the clock. Indeed time is of essence and every minute spent should be well accounted for and well spent with our loved ones.  

Done MF