Jay, a gorgeous lanky teenager, a young man of seventeen. Jay, with the green eyes and the special smile he reserved for his mom. Jay, the sportsman with the dream of playing international cricket. Jay, who commited suicide, hanging himself a week ago.

The mind reels when you are faced with a suicide, even our cynical minds stop dead when it happens to someone close to you. Hundreds of questions burst to the surface, making breathing hard because the pain becomes physical.

Jay was a beautiful young man, his spirit much more mature than what his body would allow. At seventeen, he had the world at his feet. Jay's mom adored him, calling him her pride and joy. Her Bozo, the clown.Perhaps that very endearing phrase become one of the responsibilities too heavy for the Vincent of his soul.

We are told to look for signs of depression preceding suicide. We are told to look for dark moods, outbursts of anger. Jay did not have any of those.

Jay loved life, loved sports, was extremely popular. Why then, would he take the extreme decision to kill himself?

Three weeks ago, Jay hurt his hand during a match for his school. He asked to stop playing but the trainer felt he could continue. A visit to the doctor confirmed that he damaged his arm and it was put into plaster.

Jay, being cheerful, took to walking to school,whenever his sister could not give him a ride. He joked that the fresh air made him realise that it was good to be alive.

The exam period loomed up and Jay's doctor told him that he would have to do a verbal exam as he could not use the hand to write. The school bolted, as Africa's archaic system did not allow for such occurrances.

Jay was told that his marks were not that great but, should he complete the two outstanding projects to be handed in, it should be good enough to gain him a pass for his final year.

Jay was a sportsman, excelling in every sport, playing cricket for the city team, even at such a young age.

Wednesday, the 9th arrived with no warning. Eleven am brought the first tremor. Jay send his mother an sms to call him. He was upset. His teacher told him that he would indeed be doing the exam, and another pupil would write the paper for him on Friday, the 11th of November.This was an earthquake for the young man.

He asked for an extension, explaining that he had not done any preparation as he was told, he would not be doing the exam paper. Denied, the teacher said. Young spoilt brat, the teacher said. Going to fail anyway, the teacher said. An emotional tsunami hit Jay, and friends said he just looked down and became very pale.

Jay's sister picked him up from school , took him to his mother's work and she made an appointment with the principal for the next morning. Jay was crying, saying that he did not understand why he would be called such names. His mom tried to calm him down, the shop got busy and his sister dropped him off at home.

His mother walked into a horror image when she got home 3 hours later. Jay had commited suicide. Hanging in her doorway, like a grotesque puppet, eyes open, staring into nothingness. No letter, no phonecall. She did not even recognise her beloved Bozo.

She hysterically called 911, tried to shake him, cut him down, convinced that she could bring him back. Screaming, begging, slapping him. Jay was gone. His neck broken when he kicked the chair with his feet.

Jay is dead. His mom is in pieces. I am her therapist, that is how I know about this. She wants to kill herself everyday since the terrible Wednesday. Her grief is drowning her, her soul aching for her boy.

People tell her it will be alright, when the memory of her dead son hanging in her doorway is imprinted in her mind like a torture movie, playing over and over.

Jay, the son who hated to see her cry, created tears for a lifetime.

Be careful with words and cynical remarks around children. Do not try and *shock* them into action as Jay's teacher said he did. DO not humiliate them for no reason.

Jay was not a weak young man, but the strongest can be cracked when unexpected venom hits them. Love the children, for they are our future of tomorrow.

Jay.. you are missed...