Suicidal Paragraphs Novels & Stories

Suck up the fact that I will die and no one will care. To make this entire day worse, I turned on the flashlight and the batteries failed within two minutes. If I’m lucky, I’ll die down here tonight just like the flashlight batteries. I could probably tear the blanket and fashion a noose. That would work if I wasn’t a chicken shit. I’ve thought of suicide most of my life and have never been able to take that final step. Now is no different. After yawning and trying to find a comfortable position to sleep, I manage to let the world fade and take me into nightmares.

That the voices aren't real. But the things they say are. I'm not suicidal. That's the part no one understands. I don't want to die. I want to suffer correctly. My stomach rolls violently again. "Please," I breathe, though I'm not sure who I'm begging. 'You deserve this!' the voice continues. Tears roll down my face, blurring my vision. I swipe at them angrily, smearing blood and tears across my skin. My hand shakes as I lift the pill towards my mouth.

I curled into a ball, protecting my stomach and chest from her assault, gasping and groaning at every hit. “My plans were perfectly crafted and executed, yet you didn’t crack. I was sure the scandal was a success when you ran to Paris, and I was loving how low and empty you had become. I was patiently waiting for you to abort those little flies and grow more depressed. I knew after that it wouldn’t be hard to slip suicidal thoughts into your head. My wish of you killing yourself was so close to coming true, and I was so excited. Yet, you fu.cking ruined my happiness. All my plans were wasted, because why? One of the little flies in your womb kicked.” She snarled, emphasising her last word wi