Suicide? Thinking About Suicide? Read This:
You’re sitting in your room ~ door locked ~ with a pen in
your hand and a blank piece of paper infront 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 don’t
know where to begin. No one understands you; no one knows what you’re going
through, you’re alone or at least that’s what you think. Nobody would care if you’re
alive or not, you mean nothing to nobody
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 7:21, your mother comes and knocks on your
door. She doesn’t know you can’t hear her she doesn’t know you’re gone. She
knocks a few more times, calling your name to open up. When there is no reply
from your side of the door, she opens it and screams. She collapses on the
ground while your dad rushes to your room. Your siblings have already left for
school. Your very weak mother collects all the energy she’s got which is close
to nothing to walk over to your bed. She leans over your dead body, crying,
squeezing your hand, screaming. Your dad is trying to stay strong, but the
tears escape his eyes; calling 000 or 911 with his left hand while his other
one is on your mother’s back. Your mother blames herself. All those times she
had said ‘no’ to you, all those times she had screamed at you, and sent you to
your room over something stupid. Your father will blame himself for not being
there for you when you asked for help, for being away from home at work for
long. Nobody cares, right?
8:34. There’s a knock on your classroom door it’s the school
principle. She looks more worried than ever. She calls the teacher to the side;
all the students worried: what’s going on? The principle then later announces
about your suicide. The popular girl that always called you fat and ugly is now
blaming herself. The kid that would always copy your homework but treat you
like crap ~ he’s blaming himself. The boy that sits behind you ~ the one that
always threw things at you during class ~ he’s blaming himself too. The kids
that made fun of you because you were different~ they’re blaming themselves.
The teacher is blaming herself - for all those times she’d scream at you for
forgetting your homework, or not listening in class. People are crying, screaming,
shocked, in regret of what they did. They’ll all be devastated - even the kids
you’ve never talked to before. Still nobody cares about you, right?
Your siblings get home. Your mother has to tell them that
you’re gone; forever. Your little sister ~ no matter how many times she’s
screamed at you, told you she hated you and stole your stuff ~ always loved
you, and saw you as her hero; her role model. She now starts to blame herself;
why didn’t I do what she told me to do when she told me to? Why did I take her
stuff even when she asked me not to? This is all my fault. Your brother gets
home ~ the boy that never cries. He’s now in his room; mad at himself ~ he
caused your death. All those times he’d played pranks on you. He’s punching
holes in his wall, turning over things; he doesn’t know how to deal with the
fact that you’re gone. Forever. Nobody cares about you, right? Right?
It has been over a month. The door to your room has been
closed all this time. Everything is different now. Your brother has to be sent
to anger management classes, your little sister cries everyday still waiting
for you to come back. Everyday she waits for you to come back home. The popular
girls have now turned anorexic. They don’t know how to deal with the pain that
they’re feeling. Your father has depression; your mother hasn’t slept for
nights it’s all her fault. She’s been crying and screaming every night wishing
for you to come back. The boy who would always bother you dropped out of
school. The boy that copied your homework now cuts. Those girls that used to
call you ugly, they don’t eat anymore. But nobody cares about you, aren’t I
right?
Your mother finally decides to go clean out your room. But
she can’t do it. She’s locked herself in your room for two days to try to clean
up your clothes, your things. But she can’t she can’t say goodbye to you, not
yet, not now. Never.
It’s your funeral. It’s a big one ~ everybody comes. No one
knows what to say. The beautiful girl with the big smile is gone; you’re
somewhere else. No one knows what to say, they’re all still shocked. Everyone
cries, everyone misses you. They all wish you’d come back but you don’t, and
you won’t.
Still think nobody cares about you? Think again. Even if
people don’t show it, they care about you, they love you. If you kill yourself
today or any other day you won’t know just how much you meant to people. If you
kill yourself today, it stops your pain, but it pains all the ones who know you
for the rest of their life. Suicide is the easy way out - but it’s the wrong
choice. Life is beautiful. Yes, it does have its ups and downs everyone has
their bad days. Sometimes people go through tough times in their lives like
you’re probably going through now but bad times come and go. You might not see
the light at the end of the tunnel, but it’s there. No matter how hard life
gets, never give up on yourself, or on your life.
Take a minute now, and think. If you killed yourself ~ how
would the people that love you feel/go through? Can’t think of anything? Well
I’ll tell you: tears, tears, and more tears. Devastation. Guilt. Pain. Broken.
Regret. Miserable.
If after reading this you still feel suicidal, there are
people that can help you. I’m here for you whenever you need me, and I’ll be
more than happy to listen to you and try to help you feel better. There are
teachers, parents, grandparents, neighbors, adults, councilors ~ they’re all
there for you whenever you need them.
I just want you to remember three things: you’re beautiful,
you’re not alone, and it does get better, I promise. ♥
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