I took a week of work, I collected my things and filed them properly. When I am found they will find the paperwork in order and they will thank me for my due diligence. That day they will go home to their families and their children faces will light up; their partners will say,

“Your home early. Did you have a nice day?”  They may think back to the man hang from the tree but it won’t linger.

“It was short and that’s all I can be thankful for,” they’ll respond with a shy smile. That’s what I thought.

That’s what I thought. I was twenty six. I proceed to get the rope and lash it around the tree. I filed my paper work. I wrote a letter to my landlord, it wasn’t kind. I called my father and he didn’t answer, shame but we weren’t close. On the day I was supposed to die I didn’t. How?

Well, to answer that I have to tell you about Ginger. A black cat owned by my neighbour. Now Gingers owners hated my guts but she was sweet. She was my closest contact for months. My job became remote, the meetings where held in the office and the foot notes where sent out to those who didn’t attend. I read their words and slowly they lost their meaning. Ginger would appear at six in the evening everyday and would spend the night staring at the stars. I would join her on my bench. Staying a couple of  feet away, I would read or listen to music. On the cold or nasty nights, I would invite her in and she would watch the clouds from the living room window.

Two weeks before I took my time off work, Ginger disappeared. The nights were lonely after. After a while the loneliness devoured my mind, that minor companionship had kept me sane in the worst of it. I was unwell and the crutch I employed escaped me; and the world didn’t stop marching. Its rhythm chewed me up. The days are longer when your staring into the abyss.

The day of the deed. I dressed up in my Sundays best. My Grandfathers blue cloud bow tie encircled my throat. I was ready. Completely ready. I was ready by noon. I walked out onto the lawn and sat on the bench. I looked at the tree and I saw myself, I looked sad. Incomplete. I couldn’t say why nothing had changed. Everything was as was, everything is as is.

There’s this thing that happened that day. My mind broke and tripped over it self. I waited there all day. Sitting in the brisk wind, noose swinging like a metronome. The day flew past me. The sky transformed into night and the stars showed themselves to me. They were vibrant and dark and full of mystery. The stars paint pictures and dare you to solve them. While I sat their solving gods sudoku a frail black cat crawled through the grass and curled up at my feet. Ginger. She derailed my day, I picked her up and took her inside. I fed her and checked  her condition. She had many cuts and gashes on her body and some that had healed. I rushed her to the vet and she lived.

Her owners never showed up and she was left in my possession. She didn’t venture far from the house she only went out to the bench. I believe Ginger wouldn’t be able to survive and I couldn’t find anyone to take her. So, Ginger lived for fourteen more years and all that time she kept me alive. I met people who I now consider family and Ginger was loved by them all. She let me care for her I think, she was strong and she knew how to save me. I needed something to love, just one.

Gingers been gone for a while now and sometimes when I’m sad I go sit out on the bench. I look at the stars and continue my sudoku. I find it hard not to keep an eye out for her.

Thank you Ginger for saving my life.

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