Suicidal Paragraphs Novels & Stories

TW: Mention of suicide God must have taken pity on a poor soul like me. Last night, in the dark and gloomy room where I always stayed alone, I ended my own life. The me who was weak and can't express myself, the me who had no courage to do what I wanted, and the me who can easily be manipulated by the people who wanted to use me... yes, that's me, and I long to end this misery. "On the eve of Sunday, the spouse of Niel Noah, the grandson of Noah Enterprise, perished. It was presumed that the omega has taken his own life-"

I got up from my desk chair and head to the bathroom, I grabbed a razor and walk back to my desk. I rolled my sleeve up as I sigh, my hand shook. "Do it! No don't do it! Do it come on! No don't do that!" I drop the razor while sighing, I can't hurt myself, it won't solve anything, other than make me a psychopath. I don't wanna die maybe yes just a little bit, but still I don't want to commit suicide! I'm I crazy! What was I thinking! I sigh, while resting my head on my palm as I kept watch the videos of people getting hurt.

I kept nodding as I remembered what he was saying. “I remember that. You keep on saying, ‘I’m tired. I want to die. I want to hang myself to death. I want to jump off of this building. I want to poison myself. I want to cut my wrist’ and the like.You’re really messed up that time,” I said straightforwardly. “Yeah right?” He sniffed. I stared at him and waited for him to talk again. “Levi...” he mumbled as he slumped to the floor.

My head is flooded with memories of him tormenting me, and my body is burning, as if it will burst. My heart was racing so fast that I thought it might explode. My mind was racing with how much I despise this man, and it was giving me a headache. As I remembered his laugh, my hands trembled and shivers raced down my spine. When he slapped me, when he sliced my finger, when he took my nails, when he made my life so unbearable that I wanted to kill myself, he laughed. That's right. He's the person that almost pushed me to commit suicide. But I suppose suicide was preferable...

You don't live there anymore. Lastly, I got to understand that what we write actually have a strong impact on us. It was one thing I did that drained me without my cognizance. An old man warned me about it but I refused to listen to him. Like I did tell you, I thought writing was just writing. And I normally write about death and tragedy. I have finally changed writing suicidal notes. The dead probably are the ones craving to read it.

Trigger warning. Depression. Suicidal thoughts. Self-harm. Leia’s pov I feel like shit. It’s the only fucking way to describe it. Some of it was the pain, my ribs, fingers and wrist hurt at first. But when I started to heal, I missed the pain. The pain distracted me from my fucking thoughts. And they were getting darker every fucking minute.

The weight of Scarlet’s cruel words bore down on her like a crushing weight, threatening to drag her into the depths of her own self-loathing. Amidst the chaos of her hallucinations, a glint of light caught Emily’s eye, a shattered shard of glass that was within reach. At that moment, she felt a sense of helplessness hit her hard as she reached for the glass shard, with words of self-deprecation tumbling from her lips: “I don’t deserve to live; I’m not worthy.”

Read me, stupid!

I shoved the phone angrily to the floor, watching as it shattered like my whole life right now. I’d die… I would die without him. He wouldn’t take me even if I ran after him… death… I staggered towards the table, yanking the drawer open, pulling out the sleeping pills I stashed, Xanax, anything I could get my hands on. I popped off the cap, pouring a fistful of everything into my hand… I topped off the cover of water left on the table… and then I chugged them, one after the other, all of those drugs… I’d lost my fucking mind. I was suicidal… I’d been one, but I would forever haunt his bloody mind.

~Trigger Warning: This story is rated 18+. This chapter contains descriptions of self-harming behaviors such as suicide, self-inflicted injuries, body harm, alcohol and drug abuse, which may be triggering for readers with lived experiences.~ For a while I just lay in bed, falling asleep when I finally cried myself into unconsciousness. Sometimes, I got up to stand in the hot water of the shower, but I’d crawl back into bed. Everything felt empty. Nothing was right, and Noah’s words echoed in my head.