A few minutes later, I was up on the stool, throwing one end of the bed sheet around the broken ceiling fan and forming a reliable knot.
It was like I'd stopped thinking and just played along with the luring voice of death in my head that called me.
A glance at the ceiling fan and I was praying it'd hold my weight long enough for me to pass away quickly. I sure did hope I would.
"What do you think you're doing?" A voice boomed from the hallway and I felt my heart shatter to pieces.
It was a familiar one that I had registered in my brain; it was Alan. Without as much as a glance at him, I pushed my head into a loop I'd formed. A part of me was questioning this and asking me to get down.
The other part _the more sadistic and sophisticated one_ was suddenly tired of the drama life had to offer and wanted to pass on to something new. If it all ended here, so be it. If there was a place across the bridge where there was no more sorrow, lucky for me.
"Guards!" Alan screamed and his voice echoed along the length of the quiet corridor. Subsequent murmurs began to erupt from other prison cells. With that noise, there was no way the guards' attention won't be attracted. Without much thought, the sadistic part of me came to play and I kicked the stool beneath me feet.
"Jeffery, stop!" Alan's voice thundered once again. For someone who tried to kill me three months back, it was surprising. "Guards!"
Meanwhile, the loop had tightened around my neck suddenly. Finally feeling myself hanging, I'd begun to regret the decision.
Air came in low amounts and pulling out was a near impossibility. Within the struggles, the sound of the voices approaching reached my ears.
At that moment of death, I prayed. What I'd prayed for, I could not remember. But slowly, my consciousness was dampening.
The opening of the bar door was the last thing I heard before I passed out.
***
A day later;
"Open up and look at me!" Either those were the words or something close to that. "Jeffery, open up!"
Slowly, I peeled my eyes open to behold the blurry image of the clear white ceiling. Remembering the previous episode was difficult to do with a headache.
"Who told you Jesus needs you now?" The voice asked again.
In my semiconscious state, I pushed myself up from what felt like a bed with my hand, using the other to massage my throbbing temples. If I had not thought better, I'd have guessed I was dead and in the afterlife or something. I mean…I remembered hanging myself, I heard that voice say something about Jesus and I was seeing white until I got hold of my senses..

"Jeffery!" Simon barked one last time. That one brought me suddenly into understanding of where I was and what was happening.
Maybe I had expected to be anywhere at all; but certainly not a place beyond the prison walls. I was in a hospital. Leaning on the far wall before me was Emily who had tears in her eyes. Noah was seated on his wheelchair glaring straight at me with a lidded glare that almost sucked my life out.
"Suicide, Jeffery? Really?" Anna shook her head as she said the words. Her presence made everything a sudden dream.
Meanwhile, a sudden turn of my head and I sighted Simon bent right over me. His closeness made me flinch. "What the…" On second thoughts though, I figured I had a better question. "How am I outside of jail?"
"I got them to place you on parol," Noah answered my question with a trace of emotion on his face. "You tried to commit suicide, obviously a psychological disorder which needs you getting therapy. Your blood pressure and sugar level are considerably low and it seems you've been overthinking. Leaving you in there would render you dead in weeks. So…you've been granted two weeks for revitalization."
Right, just right. Now, I was sick.
"You were perfectly fine last time we spoke," Noah was rolling his chair towards my bed while the lecture kept coming. "What possibly got over you? If Alan wasn't there…"
"Alan," the memory suddenly hit me. Where was he? "That guy's the reason I'm alive right now and that's disturbing."
"What's so disturbing about it?" I heard Maryanne mutter from my right. The look she gave off screamed "I'm disappointed" and here I was feeling nonchalant about it because she was way down on the long list of those I'd disappointed.
"Well, he staged that attack on me months back," I responded. "Why does he suddenly want me alive?"
"The same reason we all want you alive…" said Emily.
Noah was by my side now. I saw him roll his eyes at her words and awaited an arrogant response. And, wasn't I good in predictions. "Oh, just quite being nice to him, Emily. I did that when we were kids and look what he's become."
Any spite from Noah I took as amusing. With a simple shake of my head, I pondered on how unfit my body had become. "Low blood pressure and sugar? How bad could it be?"
"Bad enough you'd depend on chemotherapy…" my brother spat.
"Nonsense! Several cans of soda should do the trick."
"What you need is a shave!"
"You both shut up," I'd only noticed Howard's presence now. Not surprising because he was clothes in this black vestment that had a hood while he stood in a darkened corner. Reminded me of some mystic storyline. "Jeffrey. Was I wrong to suggest this jail term to you?"
"So this was your idea?" My brother went on with his temper like we were in the confines of our own home. The look he gave the Priest was genuinely outraged.
Meanwhile, I shook my head with dismay. My life was a mess, in every sense of the word. Sometimes, I wondered why all of them strived to save me so much. Without further ado, I groaned, suddenly attracting just the right attention I needed from them all. "Stop, please!"
I placed my palms together right before my face in plea. If arguing and throwing blames around was what they were going to do, I needed out. "Noah, do you have the pictures I asked for? If I have two weeks for parole, then I presume we'll use them wisely."
Suddenly, he took the hint and became solemn.
"Well…" Noah rolled his chair my way. "I paid Uncle Brad a surprise visit. After a litany of lies to his questions, I did get a portrait of him and Dad. His name is…"
"Dylan Joseph Thompson," I pitched in after careful thought.
The shockingly impressed look on Noah's face confirmed I was right. "Seems you had the right guy all along."