When the announcer declared my name and what I do for a
living, I went up on the stage. The noise from the audience talking to one
another faded away, they stared at me and waited for me. I gazed anxiously
through the midst of the audience as I stood still like a statue on the stage,
wondering how others managed to pull this off so easily.
The beam from the bright spotlight glared my vision,
darkening the faces of the audience. I wasn’t able to find anyone familiar
amongst the crowd. My knees were trembling, my heart was palpitating uncontrollably,
this is my brain telling me that I couldn’t proceed with the performance. I was
nervous.
“Do it!” the audience chant cheerfully! I could also hear
people encouraging, “…No need to hesitate!”
“…Come on! Don’t be afraid!”
“…It’s easy!”
The audience were pleased to see me on stage, just like the
others before me. Listening to their words of encouragement made me think they
actually want to me perform.
“How bad can it be?” I murmured quietly. “How bad was I? How
painful could it be?”
I tied the noose around my neck and jumped off stage.
As I was pulled downwards by gravity, the noose tightened
itself. I was grasping for air. I tried to reach out the audience with my right
hand while I try to remove the noose with my left hand. I felt my body shutting
down slowly. The audience were glad that I jumped, they were clapping and
cheering. My sight started to blur, I didn’t want to do this, but I had no
choice. My eyes were partially closing, and the last thing I saw was my mother
in the audience, who was happy to see me like this.
