About Suicide, People. This is IMPORTANT (Not a re-post)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

I never really thought I would write something about this, but hey, who ever does?

No, don't worry, this isn't about me. I wouldn't hurt myself. I made that promise-- and I keep my promises.

Listen, you there...the person who cries every night. The person who cuts his/herself to escape from the world. The person writing depressive poems to vent his/her feelings. The person who makes a quiz to see whether people actually do care about him/her. The person who plans his/her funeral. That person doesn't really plan living for long. That person who's hope starves piece by piece, and then none is left...

Listen, you.


People think no one cares about them. Part of them feels triumphant or relieved as they take the pills...the bigger part is scared out of their wits. Whether you plan to use a knife, poisen or pills...don't do it.

You think no one cares about you. You think people on Quibblo just say things to make you stay. You're sick, you're tired, you just want to have it over with...

Truth is they do care. I've met several people that eventually suicided on here. The latest, a girl I didn't know too well, was Musicismysoul8.

I'm so tired, people. I don't know what she was thinking, I don't know what her final moments were like. I'm just hurt.

She didn't deserve to die yet.

In fact...you don't deserve to die yet.

No matter what you think...when you die, you kill a piece of love in someone else. A piece that can only be replaced by a poisenous mix of disappointment, anger, but most of all: grief.

I know life is difficult. I know you go through a lot. I know I can't convince you. I just want you to know that people on here will always care. There will always be someone that cares.

I care.

If you really want to know what people will feel when you're gone...well, I can't really put it into words. There are no words that can express the pain, but I'm going to try either way.

First, there is blank disbelief. You don't really feel different than before. The shock slowly sinks in, but you still walk around, too confused to really realize it. Then you start shivering. Your hands shake. You keep up a smile for your family. You go upstairs. You're cold. Your heart feels like a stone. You go to take a shower. You can't get warm. Your limbs can't stop shaking. You try to cry, but no tears come out and your brain refuses to believe it. You want to scream and hit something and run out and slap people into reality and tell them what happened, but you don't want anyone to know how hurt you truly are...and then, when hours have passed, when you realize it's true...

That's when you fight the tears.

I just want to scream, I want to go right to where the person is and breathe them back to life. I want to cry and I want to change the past.

But you can never change the past. Once you've killed yourself, you can't come back and apologize. You can't hug those that love you another time.

So please stay and fight through it. There's a hand out there, reaching for yours. There's a voice out there, trying to talk to you. There are arms, ready to hold you.

There's always someone, even when you don't think there is. And until you find that someone...read this and talk to me.


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