Attempted Suicide Stories Novels & Stories

he asked. “I had a boyfriend for a year and a half ago that ended up taking advantage of me. I became depressed about it and attempted suicide when I was about fifteen.” I said as I looked down, running my hand over my neck, feeling nervous saying this out loud and it wasn’t the same as telling it to Elliot at the beach. “Fuck.” Luis mumbled.

After returning from the kitchen with seconds, her face paled as she heard her friends mentioning the suicides from the previous day. "What do you mean "unnatural"?" one of her friends asked Sophie. "Well from what I heard, they all killed themselves in horribly gruesome ways. Supposedly, one them drowned himself in boiling water, another stabbed himself to death, and the third gutted and then hanged himself."

Then he was taken in for serious rehabilitation when Marcus took enough. --- I had my turn and attempted to take the life I never gave myself. But it wasn't the time Allah wrote for me to leave. He wanted me to stay. I was forced to keep the life I didn't want anymore. My suicide attempts weren't once or twice. The seventh time I tried that madness, I actually got scared of losing my life. Then I stopped, realizing I didn't really want to do this anymore.

"Hi, Mandy." The amount of voices speaking back to me is more than I thought there would be when I came into this room, but as the time came closer for the meeting, people just kept streaming in. So here I am with a bunch of people I don't know, trying to fix a life that's gone completely sideways. "I tried to kill myself too," one of the girls sitting on the opposite side of the circle from me says. "Went at my wrist with a pink razor, complete with moisturizing strip."

No one else had the information on her whereabouts… The next day, he set out a walk to a nearby forest and climbed up an oil- bean- tree with big branches, and hanged himself with the white rope on one of the projected branches. The white rope wrapped around his neck drew so tight. Almost immediately, stars appeared before his eyes. Reaching up, he clawed at the rope, dangling, as he struggled to draw a whistle of breadth into his constricted throat. As he continued dangling in the mid-air, stars continued to whirl before his protruded eyes, and the edges of his vision went going black. It was hard to commit suicide; he remembered reading somewhere in a suicide story. Hard to die suicidal or

"Something you've never told anyone. No defenses. No performance. Just truth." He sits across from me. Takes a breath. "I tried to kill myself three weeks after your father's funeral." The words fall like stones. "What?" "I couldn't live with what I'd done. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't breathe without remembering your face when you tried to call me and my number was disconnected. So I—" He looks away. "I stood on my balcony. Seventy-fifth floor. Thought about jumping. Would've done it except—" "Except what?"

As I stood nearby, I couldn't help laughing. Seeing him like this brought back memories. Years ago, my adoptive father had cursed and grumbled his way into my life the exact same way, and dragged me back from death. It was after my sixth suicide attempt. I didn't want to burden anyone anymore, so in the middle of the night, I jumped into the river. As the freezing water pulled me under, a pair of strong hands grabbed hold of me. While dragging me toward shore, he kept muttering under his breath.

“Don’t pull into the gas station. Turn around. Take me back right now.” My driver, James Lapman, did not question me. He simply found a path and made the turn. He pressed the accelerator to the floor and sped back as fast as the car would go. In another hour, my son, Billy Smith, would livestream his suicide attempt online. The last time around, he had been wailing in the livestream with such raw anguish that anyone watching would have believed I had been abusing him behind closed doors. However, only I knew the truth. I had nearly bled to death giving birth to him. Since then, he had been the center of my world. I gave him everything he wanted and never once raised my voice at him.

“Does Mama know about that? I mean that you heard her with Baba...” “No, no, no! And I beg you. I don’t want her to know. Please.” “Why?” “Because I know her. She would be devastated that she hurt me that way.” “Does anybody else know?” I asked. “Ian just knows that I witnessed her then. Just that. Not the part where I had a suicidal attempt. This is what I’m ashamed of the most. The fact that I wanted to end my life, well, I didn’t even think of that. I just kept walking into the sea till the water covered me entirely.” He painfully admitted.

I heard the rush of air in my ears, followed by a loud thud as I felt the air cushion beneath me. My head spun, and I saw a crowd of people surrounding me. Michael happened to be driving by, and when he realized the person who had attempted suicide was me, he quickly pushed through the crowd, shouting my name. In the past, I had watched others attempt suicide and thought death seemed like an easy thing. But when it came to my own turn, I realized that dying was actually a very difficult task to complete.