Books With Suicide Novels & Stories

Loneliness is the biggest suicide driver, hundreds of studies have proven. If the government really wanted to save lives, why did it not care about those? Perhaps because suicides didn’t count any longer in the year of longing. In Germany they were an expendable marginal, not even worth a mention. Scum who would now finally stop taking air away from those who really wanted to breathe. ‘It's their own fault. Everyone needs a bit of resilience in life. Who lets their grandparents die for unstable people like this who don't even want to live?’

Also do check out my other books, all are COMPLETED: First Sokolov Brothers book: Bride To Be; My Boss Is My Tormentor; CAGED- A Dark Billionaire Captîve Romance; His Broken Princess; His Steel Princess.

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.

"So deal, okay?" "What about?" "If you kill yourself, I'll kill myself too." "Alright. But if you kill yourself, then I'll kill myself." "Okay." Audrey Simmons is suicidal. Cayden Nowell is too. But when they were about to kill themselves, they met each other on the same rooftop. And so, they made a pact. A suicide pact. This is a story about a boy and a girl who tries too hard to fit into their group of friends but constantly failed.

I'm much too clever a girl for all of that. "Of course, mom. No signed books. Noted." I blow the dust off several bookshelves. The dust burns my eyes and makes me cough. Why do we have so many novels? I find my parent's old love letters gross. I see a book on psychology and look through all the pages. The human brain is a complex maze that requires studying and discipline to unlock its depths. And that's when I see it, 'Chapter 17: The Psychology of Suicide.' The note in my pool bag haunts me—the ghost letters 'J. D' make me gasp for air. Is it a cry for help, and if so, am I too late? If J.D is dead, is it my fault for not hunting everywhere for them?

Live Suicide is an exclusive platform where people put an end to their lives and commit suicide digitally in front of a large audience. What the fuck is going on? Is this true? Does this imply that many people will see my demise? What will I gain by doing this? I want to commit suicide, but I don’t want anyone to watch me, even if they are on the screen. If you’re wondering if this is true, don’t worry, because it is! Many people have committed suicide here, and we have financially compensated them. Money? What am I going to do with that money when I already have a lot of money in my pockets? I don’t seek any financial help. I will execute myself, not for financial reasons, but because I hav

She had poisoned herself and it was not only the alcohol's fault, but also the constant stress and exhaustion that had been accumulating for a long time. As she passed by the bookshelves, she decided to take some book to read. She was delighted with Matthew's collection. There were all the books written by Clive Cussler, one of her favourite writers, as well as a lot of books by Michael Crichton and Duncan Falconer. What surprised her more was to see all of John Grishams' novels.

There's are a few themes which will be present in this part unlike the last, there are: 📌child molestation, 📌incest, 📌suicide 📌rape, 📌explicit content. 📌dark 📌violence I am writing this book because I felt people need to know. *This chapter might cause people to be triggered read with caution and no rude comment* Thank you . "You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world, but then you read. It was books that taught me that the things that tormented me most were the very things that connected me with all the people who were alive, who had ever been alive." ~James Baldwin

He drops cash on the table and walks away without looking back. I sit there alone, watching him disappear into the crowd, feeling like the worst person alive. My phone buzzes. Good girl. One man down. I scan the coffee shop frantically. Couples on dates, students with laptops, a businessman on his phone, an older woman reading a book. Any of them could be watching me literally. You never can tell what really goes on in peoples lives fr. Another text: Blue sweater??. Hm, Interesting choice. Makes your eyes look almost green.

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