Novel & Cerita Social Suicide Book

Sloane wakes up to her phone blowing up. The blurry tunnel photo has gone semi-viral on soccer gossip accounts. Sloane jolted awake in her bed as her phone vibrated nonstop on the nightstand. The screen lit up with dozens of notifications. She grabbed it with a sinking feeling in her gut and clicked on the first link. The blurry tunnel photo stared back at her from multiple soccer gossip accounts. Two figures locked in passion, one clearly on her knees. Comments flooded in fast. Some mocked the rivalry, others speculated wildly about secret affairs between coaches. Her stomach twisted with fear. This single image could destroy years of hard work. Sloane sat up quickly, heart racing, and thre

Allyson sighed in relief. "No matter what happens to you, Suicide is never an option and I guess you've got to understand that now. suicide is like taking away all the success achievement, both the past, present and future achievements with just one push, one step or even one thrusts. It's a foolish thing to think of suicide when you're young and have got many years ahead of you before old age gains up on you" I explained to her, knowing how people passed through challenges worst than losing a job. _Daphne is an example, losing her parents and her family members was quite hard for her to bear so she stole her mother's book and became like her._

Slowly lowering the book, she kept her thumb against the spine. “You look surprised,” she said, “Did you think my reading list was strictly limited to theological texts?” “I just didn’t think a nun would be tapped in on such material,” I admitted, leaning against the wooden railing. “Osamu Dazai was a suicidal individual and quite problematic. It’s a beautifully dark book, but heavy.”

it had coffee brown pages and if I knew anything that book was going to get me wrecked and I wasn’t ready for another heartache I bought the book anyway along with a small notebook, and left the store with a paper bag in one hand and a strange weightlessness in the other. why do I always know what's bad for me but still end up going for it. was this another form of self harm? or rather another form of sociopathy? I had so many questions but so little answers I ended up at a nearby café with outdoor seating. It was nearly empty, save for a couple whispering across a candlelit table and a man reading alone near the back.

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.

"Can you not poke my shortcomings? People avoid talking about it. You told at home all day, yesterday stimulated me, aren't you afraid of my psychological distortion and suicide?" "If you want to commit suicide, I can provide you with countless ways to ensure that you commit suicide is beautiful and successful. The least recommended suicide method is lying on the rail. Judging from my experience in investigating cases for so many years, the suicide method of lying on the rail is too tragic to be suitable for a beautiful teenager like you." "I'll go, is this still my sister?" "I can put up with you, yes i am your sister." Bright Santos burst out laughing when he heard this, and the refreshing

"That will do, Ed if she can say that before your parents. An obstacle between us will be cleared off." But, he didn't answer. Instead, he reached for the heavy velvet curtain and pulled it shut, saying arrogantly, "A little sunburn will do nothing to you until you decide what's best for you, Sonya." He was leaving me to ash! He didn't know after rebirth my strength was weekend and I could not tolerate sun as much as I used to. I collapsed against the door, the rays hitting my shoulders like molten lead. I closed my eyes, bracing for the familiar agony of my previous death, when suddenly, a shadow, massive and cold, fell over me.

AUTHOR’S NOTE 🌅 Now you know why she wanted to commit suicide. Wow. I can’t believe I ended this chapter gracefully. Thank you all for reading up on this chapter. Do well to comment and follow my book for more updates. Love you!

Read me, stupid!

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.