By Ola Alaka-Coker
I tightened the noose I had hung on the ceiling fan. I was going to
do it; I was going to take my own life. The pain was just too much for me to
bear any more. I had gotten the rope from the yard downstairs where we spread
our laundry and waited for my roommate to leave for service. I locked the door
and closed all the blinds; no one was going to stop me my mind was made up.
