The Snake That Finished His Whole Family – My Reflection
Sometimes I sit alone and think about everything that happened, and my chest becomes heavy. Life has taught me many lessons, but nothing shook me the way this story did. I keep replaying moments in my mind, asking myself where things went wrong, and why none of us saw the danger coming.
I think a lot about my friend Sibusiso. He was not a bad person. He was just tired. Tired of trying. Tired of failing. Tired of watching other people move forward while he stayed in the same place. I understand that feeling because I have felt it too, but he carried it deeper than anyone I knew.
He wanted a breakthrough so badly that he stopped thinking clearly. That desperation blinded him. I remember the day he came back after disappearing for days. Something in him was missing. His eyes looked older, like he saw something no human should see. At the time, I didn’t want to assume anything. I just hoped he would talk when he was ready.
But when he told me about the money ritual, I felt cold inside. He said the ritual brought him a snake spiritually—something that would provide wealth but needed sacrifices in return. I didn’t know how to respond. Part of me wanted to shout at him. Another part wanted to pretend he was joking. But he wasn’t joking. His voice was not the voice of the friend I knew. It was the voice of someone already trapped.
Now when I think about it, the first death in his family was the moment everything started making sense. But at that time, we all tried to treat it as a normal tragedy. We didn’t know he had tied himself to something that would demand life after life. I still remember his face at the funeral—he cried like someone being punished.
And then more things happened. His mother. His sister. All taken one by one. Every time something happened, he became more quiet, more broken. It’s strange how silence can tell a story that words cannot explain.
I keep thinking about the night he called me for the last time. His voice was so weak, so hopeless. He said he didn’t want to continue with the ritual anymore, but he was also scared to stop. He said, “I didn’t know it would take everyone. I just wanted a better life.” His words still echo in my mind. I wish I could have gone to him that night. I wish I could have helped him run away, or at least sit with him so he was not alone.
The next morning, he was gone. No signs of what happened, no explanations. Just a life ending quietly after so much noise and pain. And now when I think about it, what hurts me the most is how fast everything happened. A family that was once full of life became empty. One bad decision finished all of them.
This whole thing changed me. It made me understand how dangerous desperation can be. When a person feels cornered by life, they start believing anything, even things that can destroy them. And I learned how important it is to speak up when someone you care about is walking into darkness. Silence can be its own kind of guilt.
Now I tell myself every day: money that comes with blood will always take more than it gives. I think if Sibusiso had waited just a little longer, maybe life would have opened another door for him. But he wanted to force the door open, and the price became too high.
Sometimes at night when the world is quiet, I sit and think about him. About his mistakes. About my silence. About the family that is no longer here. And every time, I feel the same pain, the same warning inside my heart.
Some choices do not only change your life… they end it.
If you want, I can make it even more emotional, longer, or more diary-like.
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