Book About Suicide Novels & Stories

I flipped open the pages of the book, and some words were underlined in red ink, like the dedication page. Help. Live. Die. It went on till the end of the book. I checked other books, and similar words were underlined in red ink. Save. Love. Torture. I rested against the shelf, trying to merge what I'm reading with what I've read. My brain interpreted that she died by suicide and depression. I didn't know what could have triggered it. I checked my watch. Shit. It was almost time for Chiara, to return. I was so engrossed in checking the books. I bent down to the lowest compartment as I saw a stack of papers layered on top of each other. They were old and dusty.

Hands are supposed to heal, help, and create... What would happen if they were used for other purposes that are geared towards the opposite? Here are two stories that discuss that possibility... and you won't know if which one is true... But then, maybe both are, dear reader. Enjoy! ++++++++ The Suicide Cabinet A student supposedly killed himself by slashing his wrists in one of the UPD dormitories. But, to be sure, he didn’t get rescued. He stayed inside his dorm cabinet which was, at that time, big enough to hold a person standing upright. He was found days later because of the really awful smell coming from the "coffin".

What he read about decades ago was now before him. Zadicus was slightly fascinated and intrigued but they were tense. “This can’t… Tales of Grievances perished long ago.” Huzefa whispered in disbelief. “I burned the last copy myself. I was a juvenile. Curiosity got the best of me… it was terrible. I read the whole book.” Zadicus shrugged his shoulders, nonchalant about it. “And you are still sane? Those who read it and the one who wrote it, all of them killed themselves.” Huzefa asked, blinking to fathom how strong his mind could be.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, businesses, and incidents are either product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. WARNING: This contains violence, depression, suicide, and self harm. If ever you're reading this, take this as a sign to give yourself a chance to see the bright side of the world :) PROLOGUE "FLORENCEEEEE!" I stepped on the gas even harder hearing Eula's scream.

Tom shouted as my face was buried in the cushion. I couldn’t mutter anything I was drained of the remaining dignity I had. My mind kept thinking of ways I can kill myself. Poison, gunshot, stabbing, hanging, running into ongoing traffic, drowning, burning myself, drinking acid. The endless choices sounded more like paradise than the way I was being treated. I decided to close my eyes to think about paradise

“They took their own lives?” Cassius shut his eyes tightly, his grip around me tightening, “They… umm… When they found out that you were so depressed that you had to take drugs, they couldn’t bear it. They… um… blamed themselves for it and committed suicide.” I shook my head and snapped in a frantic voice, “They would never do that. Daniel, and Emma; they can never do something like committing suicide. This is just not possible, Cassius.” I was screaming hysterically at this point. I punched his chest and cried out, “Please tell me that this is not true, Cassius. Please tell me that I am not the cause of their deaths.”

“Girl, you read my mind. And the fun part is, you don’t have to worry about us committing suicide if it goes out again.” My head snapped toward them. “Suicide?” I asked sharply. “If it goes out again?” “Yeah,” Celia said casually. “That thought won’t even cross our minds. We’ll be the happiest girls alive if we get our own bites.” She smirked. “Not like Kaelith, who tried to kill herself just because a rumor broke out. Silly girl.” That was it. The moment Kaelith’s name left her mouth, everything else faded. The woods. The girls. The noise around me. All I heard were three words pounding in my head.

Betsy waited outside the operating room looking anxious. "You still care about him, don’t you?" I asked her quietly. "Who says I do?" she snapped. "I'm just worried that if he dies, what will happen to our business?" It made sense! I nodded quickly. If he died at our guesthouse, there was no way we could keep running it. Seeing her hard exterior, I sighed. "I don't know where you got your information, but there's no truth to it,” Julius said to his mother.

And finally, the pain is too much. Oh And I'm all out of whiskey. To soak up the damage you've done. Oh Is there anything I'm guilty of? It's loving you too much. If anybody asked how we died, Call it suicide. Don't fabricate Just tell them, baby. It was suicide. Don't sugarcoat it; just let them know. Ahhhh, Call it suicide. Oh... Don't fabricate (No, don't fabricate it.) Just tell them, baby. It was suicide.

Either a yes or no, heaven or hell but the clearest picture I saw was hell. In few minutes, I was already hanging and strangling. I was struggling with my spirit which has stubbornly refused to leave me. 'So suicide is this painful and tough?' I wished I had a gun or maybe something toxic like rat poison which could make it a faster death but I knew I was way too broke to afford them. Even though I hung six feet above the earth, death wasn't coming. I thought I’ve read I books that the paws of death lurk around them that wants it. I began to doubt that... WATCH OUT.. Did CHUKA die? FIND OUT