You are sitting in your room with the door locked with a pen in your hand and a blank piece of paper in front of you. Your hand is shaking, and the tears begin again - for the third time in the past hour. ‘To my family’ you write at the top of the page, but decide it’s a bad way to begin your letter, your suicide letter. You try again, start over again and again, but you do not know where to begin. No one understands you; no one knows what you are going through, you are alone or at least that’s what you think. Nobody would care if you are alive or not, you mean nothing to anybody. It’s night, and you slip into bed. ’Goodbye’ you whisper into the darkness. And with that, you take your last breathe and end it all. No body cares, right? Well you thought wrong. It’s a Tuesday the following morning, and when it’s
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Sad Story of Suicide
You are sitting in your room with the door locked with a pen in your hand and a blank piece of paper in front of you. Your hand is shaking, and the tears begin again - for the third time in the past hour. ‘To my family’ you write at the top of the page, but decide it’s a bad way to begin your letter, your suicide letter. You try again, start over again and again, but you do not know where to begin. No one understands you; no one knows what you are going through, you are alone or at least that’s what you think. Nobody would care if you are alive or not, you mean nothing to anybody. It’s night, and you slip into bed. ’Goodbye’ you whisper into the darkness. And with that, you take your last breathe and end it all. No body cares, right? Well you thought wrong. It’s a Tuesday the following morning, and when it’s
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