Personal Narrative Of My Suicide

I somehow knew what my aunt would say to me when I answered the ringing phone in my hand. There was an unexplainable, sickening feeling in my abdomen that told me something was wrong. Hesitating, I frantically tried to think of what else it could be before finally clicking “answer.” The cold surface of my phone pressed up to my ear, and my aunt spoke words that I will never forget.

On 06-06-2018, at approximately 1818 hours, I was contacted by Cpl. F. Capitano, in reference to a suicide at 11513 Lake Ridge Road. Upon arrival I met with Cpl. G. Thomas, who advised what occurred. I then entered the residence with Deputy E. Palacios, who was the first deputy on scene, Deputy B. Shannon, who is the originating deputy and Crime Scene Tech S. Mawhinney, who responded to process the scene.

“My ex-girlfriend was taken away by the cop and taken to the local jail. My ex-girlfriend’s Dad showed up and I rode back with him to their house. Finally my parents came and picked me up. I went home and maybe got two hours of sleep, if you even call that sleep. The next morning, I went back to my ex-girlfriend’s house and she was later released from jail that day. For the longest time, we would just sit there in silence, because, what do you say? It was time to comfort one another. I not only felt bad about the whole situation, but I knew no one was going to believe me, us. Believe that a girl purposively jumped into the moving vehicle. I later learned that the girl who died had been suicidal. Earlier that day, before the accident,

On February 10, 2015 I was admitted to West Regional Hospital for being suicidal. My friend, Sadye,  told the counselors about how I had temptations to drive off the road and hurt myself. I was then escorted to the hospital by two police officers. After I got to the hospital, I was met by a third police officer who took me up the elevator. When we finally arrived at the decided floor, a lady took me into a room to ask me many questions about suicide and what led me to it. After the interview, I had to wear clothes that looked like a purple prisoner-like outfit. I wasn't allowed to have any outside items like jewelry, cell phones, or even my own pair of socks. I stayed in the hospital for a little over a week, everyday I had to fill out paperwork

The guys and I were parked infront of this highschool we had spotted while buying food last week. We has taken a black van in an attempt to blend in. Maybe the people that notice will think we were just deliering things and there won’t be a problem. I decided that this was a good school for the shoot up because there were a lot of suicides and there appeared to be cliques by the way groups of people would meet eachother before disappearing into the school. Are plan was to wait till first period was going before sneaking in and attacking classrooms one by one. It was a fairly small school and it would be a pretty simple task if there weren’t any problems. The guys were getting impatient and I was trying to find was to entertain them, Nick was

It's been over two weeks and Evan is still not sure what he's gotten himself into and the only one to blame is himself and his wired therapy letters. So now where is he? Oh yeah, pretending to be Connor Murphy's best friend because his parents thought he wrote a suicide note to Evan. And of course, he just went with it. Told the Murphy's all about his great friendship with their son who was surely going to kill him once he woke up. Evan would love it if the ground could just open up and swallow him whole. His phone ringing interrupts his daydream about no longer existing. Evan pulls his phone out of his pocket and blanches when he sees it's Mrs. Murphy.

Death… yeah, I can't recommend it. I know it may be hard to believe, but it sucks. Though, when you die, and I mean you will, I'd stay clear from reanimation. It's not such a lovely jaunt in the park. Oh, no it's quite frankly hell on earth. Stuck in a plain of existence between the mortal world and whatever afterlife you are chosen for. You are left to wander this world unnoticed by the living, at least until they die, where they come to this realm awaiting to pass from this world to the next.

I am a second year student in the psychology masters program at Catholic University of America and I have a strong interest in suicide prevention and sexual assault crisis intervention.

The sun glares down upon me from the sky. Sweat drips from my brow as I search for any signs of a cloud that will provide some respite from the 100 degree heat. I cling to the chain-link fence that surrounds the tennis court for support, my lungs desperately pleading for air. The soles of my feet burning underneath me, I feel ready to collapse. We – I and seven other students – had just finished our second suicide after a series of other training drills, and I was ready to go home for a cold shower and some much needed rest. Our coach, who we call Coach G, then yells, “Again!” We line up at the white doubles line. “Suicides,” I thought, “a more appropriately named activity I have never heard in my life,” as I just about felt ready to die. The whistle shrieks, my deadened ears barely able to hear the strident sound. We set off, touching each consecutive line and returning to our starting position. Doubles line, singles line, center, singles line, doubles line – I finish the first court. We then continue on to the second, repeating the routine with the added challenge of having to return to the doubles line of the first court each time. This continues on to the third court, then the fourth. Finally, after reaching the end of the

It was 2nd quarter in 6th grade. I was sitting on my saucer chair relaxing, and enjoying the silence in my bedroom. I sit there thinking in my sweats cuddles up in a large fuzzy purple blanket. Then suddenly I was awakened after spacing out from my phone. The text was from Emma, I was a little sceptical because we hadn’t talked in a couple of days. I hesitantly opened it and slowly and carefully read it. The text said, “I hate myself, I hate how I look, I hate how I feel, and I hate how people look at me”. I felt absolutely terrible, and was in a bind not knowing what to say back. All I knew was Emma needed to know how important she was to this world and that she meant so much to her friends and family.

They say suicide is not beautiful, well to me that is simply untrue because once you see it for yourself that changes the whole notion. The day I saw my mom take the old revolver out of my daddy's underwear drawer and put it against her forehead, that was the day that changed me forever. I was supposed to be playing but I had taken to racing trucks and was zooming them down the hallway back and forth. I stopped at the middle door, in between my bedroom and the other bedroom which was reserved for special people. My mom was supposed to be taking a nap but her door was slightly open and it's through that crack I watched as the bullet entered her brain right above her eye. I did not scream or jump at that noise, or the blood that traced a rainbow

The holograms should’ve warned us to take a deep breath. Close our eyes. Then again, the holograms should’ve done a lot of things. Like told the truth.

The Oxford Dictionary states that excellence is the quality of being outstanding or extremely good. This noun embodies who I am. Not only that but I also work to achieve excellence as often as possible. In my lifetime, I have learned so many things and have been through a lot. All of this help me to be excellent.

In a hushed tone, John asked me to promise not to discuss our talk with anyone else. He had been one of my closest friends for over a decade, so of course I guaranteed him confidentiality. John’s eyes never left the cracked sidewalk, and as we walked through town that cold winter night, John revealed that he felt isolated and recently begun contemplating suicide.

Things in life naturally come at you hard and unrelenting; nothing ever comes at you easily, and if it does, don’t trust it. I learned at a very young age just how bad life can be to people; while my life was not the worst life by far, it still wasn’t very pleasant. It caused me to think things that I shouldn’t, and above all, do things that I shouldn’t.