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Peer Counselling Workshop Greater Portmore High
This contribution won Melesia a scholarship to World Youth Forum 2002 and formed the basis for an acting workshop on loss and how to work through it. It was part of the youth presentation performed with Lucilla and Enrica two of the Italian girls attending the conference. A good example of cross cultural cooperation.
Suicide
Monica stood at the top of a tall old building and looked down on the tiny people going in and out of it. She began to pace along the edge slowly, mumbling to herself, how could this world be so cruel, how can people change for the worst so quickly. Then she stopped in her tracks and looked over, she then closed her eyes and began to slightly tilt over; then came a voice from behind.
'Monica do not'.
'Ah' she exclaimed almost falling over, but fortunately, enough she regained her balance. 'Do not do that, you frightened me' she said turning her head and realizing it was her best friend Tenille.
'Do not do it' repeated Tenille to Monica. 'You have too much to live for'.
'Like what?' Asked Monica, ' ..more tragedies'.
'What about your marriage, your job and me? Don't you have people who love and care for you? I do not believe that you really want to do this'.
'Oh Tenille I think I do',
'You don't Monica and if you will not do it for me, your husband or anyone else, then do it for Cloey, Monica, do it for him, because he needs his mother now more than ever.'
The tears burnt their way to the brim of Monica's eyes and she licked and bit her bottom lip. Tenille was right but the world is so unfair and oh no, there is no use trying to deny the truth,
'You are right', she said lifting her head. 'It is just that I feel so frustrated Tenny'.
'Oh girl, that is all right, come here', she said walking towards her.
'Oh Tenny' she said turning around, but just as turned, she was too close to the edge and her heels slipped and she went over the edge.
'No Monica!', Tenille called out running to the edge and saw Monica's lifeless body on the ground.
Greater Portmore High Peer Counselling Workshop Grieving
D'cuan shook the pack of Matterhorn then pulled out a slender cigar and faintly lifted it to his mouth as he heavily exhaled whiskey stenched breath. He lit it and took a few puffs then let the thick smoke fade in the atmosphere. He sat uneasy on his black leather reclining chair and let his head fall back. He closed his eyes, took a few more puffs, and felt tiny streaks of tears running down the side of his face. He ignored them, because tears at this point were utterly useless and he did not want that. Not at a time like this. Not when he was on the verge of emotionally dying because of a great loss. I cannot believe she's dead his lips sounded lightly as they released cloudy whiteness. More tears flowed and he squeezed his eyes tight but only in vain. The telephone began to ring and as though his ears were dogged, he let it rang unanswered. He was dead to the world and so was Lila, only difference was that he was not literally. He removed the small portion of cigarette from his frail lips, nothing lasts long he said opening his eyes. He lifted the transparent bottle and filled his throat with the harsh liquor trying to bum away the pain and frankly, it was of little aid. Nothing mattered to him now. He had lost the love of his life; his only solemn reason for living and the unbearable pain tearing apart his inside.
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