A stitches in Time saves nine

 

Holidays are the best times my of life. These are the only time I get to live my life to the fullest. Notwithstanding, lots of soft skills of mine were acquired during my holidays. I learnt how to prepare fine delicacy last summer holiday; I have also learnt some basic Spanish greetings during the last holiday. Now I have decided to take up Home Economics Practices on sewing. Indeed I gained much more knowledge than in previous vocational classes I have attended as it equipped my sewing skill and a resolution to internal emotional trauma. As this class provided me with an answer to a memory I had regretted experiencing before now.

I should have sensed the message nature was signalling that day before living it. As the cloud had swallowed up the sun for the entire day. I could remember vividly that I just returned from my daily lecture feeling exhausted and famished. I couldn't resist the urge to lay in my disordered room filled with my used items scattered in the room like a garbage spot. "I need to get something to eat and clean up the messed room afterwards finish up my two-day-old assignment Mr Jerry my maths teacher gave us: I have been postponing it now", I soliloquize. I dropped the huge bag on my back down as if giving it a K.O. then sat down to relax a bit before moving to the kitchen to prepare the final three noodles and the only surviving egg. Then I decided to multitask myself to save enough time for my rest. 

Things were playing out well until I made the turn of cleaning my disordered room. At first, made for my reading corner. Picked the pie of various worksheets and a personal jotter. Putting the now overturned grammar workbook and my fancy fountain pen I got from uncle Jimi last month as a birthday present.

After arranging the study corner to my taste; I prepare onward to challenge my greatest threat; the soft and smooth bed( now stained around its rectangular edges with pieces of used clothes and my then wet but now dried towel— I could still feel the impact of with wetness on my bed). As if defending against every obstacle and temptation I held the laundry bucket beside me picking each clothes one after another inside without mercy. Upon, picking up my basketball vest hanging spot on the bed, I slipped and fell flat on the bed; facing the bed with my heavy eyes falling apart. 

I had thought I could resist the devil's calls but I failed as I eventually yielded to the bed's call. The last thing I remember before shutting up was that the noodles are almost ready as the clock chimed 4:45 pm. 

"Coughing - iiiitch!!!", I could hear my door banging as the police had come for me. I had wondered within myself what could have been the cause, what followed the awkward smell was the smoke that carried the neighbour's voice within, if not for the awful smell that has choked me. causing me to cough non-stopped, and my drizzling eye sprung open. My house is on fire!

Till today, I still haven't figured out how I met myself outside the house with my soiled and wet fingers from the earlier cleaning. All I could remember was that weak my legs grow spring and I dashed out of the room: The door lock had made way for me; even the choking smoke couldn't have stopped me. 

Everyone's voice becomes tin and low as my consciousness fades away bit by bit. The following scene welcomed my body on the ground as my nimble body suddenly refused to work. All I could feel was the restless neighbours grabbing me unto themselves. Refusing formal questioning before dropping at the nearest hospital.

Oh God, hmmm, oh God was indeed kind to me that day, But my entire books and wardrobe had met their fate with the fire incident. All my precious wares, especially the fancy new jacket my mother got for me lately. I hoped to gift my little sister my miniature diamond castle, my cellphone, my valuables, ahhhh, even my MacBook laptop followed suit. In the smoking festival. I curse everything non-stop that day: I curse the sky, I curse my school system, I curse my wet,soft, and comfortable bed crazily; "it doesn't deserve this fate" I muttered. The picture of the ruined day replays seldomly even within my endearing dreams( as you would guess I will continuously cause). I haven't stopped cursng it till today. Honestly, what pains me the most was that I caused it. The hunger and the tiredness could have spared me a little more, it shouldn't have made me more vulnerable. 

Back to the present, as the soft and harmonious speech of the Econs(Home Economics) teacher kept sweeping the air. I wallow still in my consciousness analysing the cause of the incident. It wasn't Mr Jerry's late class nor the live threatening hunger but my fault, it is all my fault. How do I fail to realize that indeed "A stitches in time indeed saves nine". If I had not been lazy about trying to do everything at once rather than taking them one after the other; I could have finished the cooking first. Then eat something, afterwards moving on to cleaning my room. I shouldn't have landed myself into this mess. I could have lost my life if the neighbours haven't alerted me earlier. Still, I could have had a peaceful rest instead of the three days of compulsory hospital rest I earned myself that day. 

"I hate that day" I shouted out, forgetting I am still in a class. All eyes fixed on me. Including the presenting coach. He looked flabbergasted, "what day was that?" The coach managed to question me. I felt gawk and gullible. I couldn't form a complete statement as I was frozen in between two worlds—that of my reminisce realm and my physical world. "Nothing sir, nothing" I quickly voiced as I recovered a bit. 

I spent the rest of the day reciting the same word to myself self, "A stitches in time save nine".