I Am Tired

"I am tired. I am really tired."

The voice of a man, who has lived a fulfilled life, who has achieved his dreams, echoed through the large bedroom. Whatever that could have triggered that statement will remain unknown to the people who reside nearby.

I know a man who stays in my neighborhood. He goes by the name, "GUY." The name sounds strange, as well, unique.

Guy lived a life that you would call "sweet." At 18, he bagged his first degree in Economics. Then, went on to further his studies in Business Administration. His dream; as birthed by his father's intent, was to own several multi-million companies across West Africa.

Well, he worked for it and he scored his goal. And, at 25, he'd already become the owner of the largest business firm in his territory.

Guy, as he would love people to call him, also owned houses and lands. One of such he owns in my area, which he lives in, until his death last night.

Yes, he died. That would explain why I have been narrating this in past tense.

Truly, Guy had everything going on well for him. He had money, power, influence. Name it! To cream it all, his wedding was intended to occur next month.

But as fate would have it, the desires of man will not always show forth as he wants them. Guy was found dead in his bedroom, last night. He hung himself.

The words "I am tired. I am really tired." Were all people saw, written in all 120 pages of a book. It was all written on his mirror, his walls, on the table and everything that has surface.

People who knew him think something must have happened to him. Was he nursing an incurable disease? Was he out of his mind?

Guy, the multimillionaire? Baffled faces looked and whispered, and stood in twos and in threes; lamenting sadly, the demise of the wealthy, young man.

"He promised me to come see him for my son's school fees today. Why will he do this to me?" A woman, in her early forties exclaimed with tears.

"Also I, he asked me to bring my credentials for a job tomorrow. Now, he is dead. Where do I start from?"

A lad, in his twenties contributed.

Everyone cried and wailed at the death of the kind, wealthy, young man. But no one really cared about the hidden message in the words, "I am tired."

Guy had been going through various phases of depression since he graduated from school. Everyday of his life was like a void that needed to be filled. With what? He'd ask himself. He would watch the children of the poor and needy, and would cringe at the kind of life they live.

"How could life be so unfair?" He thought.

It wasn't enough that he had money. He just wanted to forget about everything. Even life.

It wasn't enough that ladies loved and flocked around him like bees. He wanted something different.

He'd sit down and read and write, and share his thoughts to his diary friend, but he was never satisfied. A lot of entities answer to him but he wasn't bothered. Happiness was far.

One night, he came back from work and started thinking about his life. How much he's achieved over the years. How everything has worked out without any hard efforts. He thought about them all, and he felt TIRED.

He felt tired of life. Of living. He was tired of all luxury he had. Tired of the life that the poor live. He was tired of the world.

So, he took his pen and started writing aggressively. Until he really felt tired.

Then, he took the rope, the one he'd bought since the day he graduated from the University. Tied it to his ceiling fan and placed his neck in the middle of the circled part, for a squeeze.

"I am tired…" was the words he muttered with tears in his eyes, as his eyeballs rolled in their sockets, his tongue stuck out and his legs weakened. Leaving his lifeless, hung body dangling in space.

Guy had money, but was depressed for a very long time.

Guy had wealth, power and influence. He had love, but didn't feel fulfilled.

Guy didn't kill himself. He only needed a vacation out of this world.

HE. WAS. JUST. TIRED.