15.03.07
We are all unravelling now.
As the first sign of life is the crying voice of the lungs filling with air, then it is logical that the last sign of your life for us was the silent cry you made alone in your room. And our last moments with you were filled with the same wracked cries of inconsolable loss and fear of our own futures without you.
With the passing of time, we are beginning to unravel your last hours.
The last time I heard your life-filled voice was in the early hours of Monday 26th February 2007 - a short conversation about the night I had spent with my friends in a bar in Belgrade - mainly talking about you and how brilliant you were; how the future looked good, despite the obvious blips and obstacles on the horizon and how I was happy to be coming home to you again. I would see you again three days after returning, so just a little more time to wait and we would be together again.
I know you never made the Monday morning appointment you had with your solicitor - she confirmed that you didn't show. So I am guessing that some time on the morning of that fateful Monday, you composed your note, organised the last few things outstanding and then took your own life.
It is only logic that dictates this illogical finale to your existence: the curtains to your bedroom were closed, but not the ones to your living room. I had sent you a text at 11.15 Serbian time, so one hour earlier GMT, and you had not responded - so either you were preparing yourself, or you had already left. I know now that your failure to answer was not dictated by any other factor - you hadn't gone in to work as you normally would have done after a morning appointment. I continued to send you messages throughout the day - evidently without any answer and by early evening, I was very concerned. I left a couple of voicemail messages for you and then my instinct told me that this was much more serious than any of us could have imagined. So I called your sister.
The chain of events which followed has been much talked about: your sisters went to your flat and were unable to wake you - thought you might have fallen asleep. S's boyfriend saw the note on the door and knew. He found you. Checked for signs, but knew that you were long departed.
And the rest is fairly obvious. Paramedics, police, statements. You were pronounced dead at 23.45. No CSI moments here, no deductive scientific and evidential calculations to reckon the true hour of your death; just a simple confirmation of when your lifeless body was found.
I was waiting for you to call, as I knew you would. My phone rang a 2.04 GMT and when I saw your sister's name appear, I didn't even have to speak to her to know that awful truth. She told me you were dead. I asked them how. They told me.
From that point on, the unravelling began. And it continues.
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1 comment:
Thanks for this tribute to John
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