Reading these suicide pages you will find people seeking help and people offering their help. Some witness about suicide from real life experience, others who play along with me would pretend it's a children's game. Some make sick and cruel jokes about it, and angry people blame me for even mentioning the subject. You might also want to read my favourite answers. If you want your answer to be included here, fill in the form.

Date Name/email

Nom/email
What is the best way to kill yourself when you're under 13?

Quelle est la meilleure forme de suicide pour les moins de 13 ans?
04 Sep 2009 Christmas Most, important year of school, everyone I talk to is crazy. The people who run my school are absolutely mad, I don't get it. The brief sections of empty dialogue I go through daily, may be all I have. Wine and cigarettes, didn't work, as if I fell endless thirst. I can't explain much, sorry. It's just. . . I don't know, there is this girl who wonders around amongst all the crazy people who don't exist, I really want to say something to her... She's three years late it feels. . . God, Mouchette why can't I talk to her? I'm going to try again tomorrow, every time I see her face lingering someone to long I'm just breathless though. Everything feels so lifeless these days. . .
28 Aug 2009 jen I'd love to tell all of you to pray to God crack open a bible he will talk to you ask him and you will receive

but above all please do what he said - worry not for the day for the day is ANXIOUS for itself -

did you know worry is a sin?

Did you know that God wants you to pray for christ and his return in your prayers striving together as one? He wants us all to be saved.

Please find God -
29 Jul 2009 brettskibeat The best way to kill your self if you are young is to simply let it roll on until you arn't...that self at any age is moving right along...this way or that, all the time....there is no funeral for the kid body,it just transforms slowly into a taller thang, and yeah you guessed it so is that depressed gooey grey fucken thing in your head. I'M not 13 man i'm fourty five and i have the priveledge to be any age i've already been...wait a bit , pick one you think is groovy and just be that....today i'm eleventy two, that is... the eleven year old in me thinks the twenty two year old is really groovy and worth looking up to and hanging out with...the forty five year old guy is saying...oh not this shit again, but in the spirit of looking out for his imaginary children he plays the game and everyone is happy...except for the twenty three year old who saw his father die, or the twenty eight year old when his mother died, or 31 34 25 16 19 when 'a' either his girl friend fucked off with a christian dork or 'b' had his friends suicide on him, leaving him with a strange sense of abstract humour for the departed....if your thinking about a life with jesus just remember there is no exit plan from christianity so if you dont like it and want to leave as far as they are concerned you can go to hell, thats why they dreamed it up like that, trust me it doesnt matter how many souls you bring their way...when you leave they have no appreciation for it at all, i bought about 15 people to the lord and they bought others and so on,but as i left i was accused of fucking the pastors wife, not being a real man because i wouldnt get married, any amount of shit they can dream up because you arn;t a part of their club...even the bible says something about you being a thousand times worse of something....they'll sit around in cell groups praying for what they wanted for your life for years after because they have nothing better to do, its like some strange christian voodoo that they have over you because you were once theirs. i placed my ass behind a drum kit and turned depression into aggresion and went and gave over thirteen thousand lessons to a bunch of kids at a music school in rural nsw australia, i didnt tell them 'this will help with your suicidal inevitabilities' but i know some of them will be able to rise above the fucked existance that every male living in this country experiences....i'm sick to fucken death of poverty and bullshit prompting about how you can achieve the unachievable, the unachievable here is longevity and it might turn out to be the only card i hold on this so called judgement day awaiting us all,,get fucked big fella i didn't pussy out on your shit planet...now up grade me to to a planet closer to the metropolos of the rest of the universe instead of this place way out to the left of nowhere,13 year olds are too sexy and cute to be dead, they just need to learn how to take advantage of that situation, if your a boy and you are starting to grow little boobies and having nuaghty dreams...dig it dig it dig it
11 Jun 2009 the joker guys, i am 13 years of age, my parents love me to hell i seem to find myself sitting on my skinny ass playing world of warcraft everyday 24/7 except school weeks... i look at porn and do stupid things when i shouldn't be doing them... i am told that i would get in trouble with the police... i chuckle at them and say.... " if i go to jail, then i will kill my self" they get angry!!!! the best way to commit sucide is to wait til your heart has done its part... then thats when you die im hanging in there... i cant even grow the fucking gold brass balls to kill my self, then again i cant bring myself to jump out of my window (do note that i live in a very tall flat and there are 14 floors in total and i live on floor 13) so very easy to die and also ANYONE WHO IS BEING BULLIED DO NOT FUCKING KILL YOURSELVES, IF YOU TELL THEN YOU WON'T SUFFER ANYTHING... you know its kinda like eating butterfly cakes... they're tasty and its a pretty good feeling when you tell on the bullies then they are dealt with it is like exorcising a demon but yes of course that is very irrelevant to this subject - my message : don't kill yourself, instead try to work out plans... its like being in a war you just got to tidy it up into groups ETC: problems sort them into groups like... home,school,work,family or friends and if you had a recent issue with a friend then isolate yourself from them for a while while you solve all your other problems its like deafeating people... but yes, its not really a war but a emotional war i am not emo i am not goth i am not any of those people i am just a normal,sadistic a big deaf asshole who hasn't got a life because hes too focused on getting a good life i have a girlfriend and i consider myself "EXTREMELY" lucky to have her because she is the most beautiful girl on the planet in my opinion and if i commit suicide it will break her heart and it won't just hurt her... it'll hurt your friends... itll hurt your family... IMAGINE YOUR BROTHER OR SISTER COMING INTO YOUR ROOM AND FIND YOUR CORPSE HANGING ON THE CEILING WITH BLOOD COMING OUT OF YOUR MOUTH WITH A FRICKING SUICIDE NOTE PINNED ON YOUR ASS SAYING THAT YOU LOVE THEM TO BITS BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH - THEY FEEL TERRIBLE AND I CAN'T HELP MYSELF NOT TO CRY TO SHIT ABOUT THIS... :( its a sad life out there where is the old days.. i read about the swinging sixties.. where peace and love was at its highest.. where did that go?!
05 Jun 2009 christmas How do you pay the rent with this Mouchette?
I mean, Really. Talking about Lucy's breasts is all fine and dandy, but I don't feel like it's a recession proof business.
26 May 2009 M.M. a.k.a. billy the freak amsterdam heaves like the breath in her lungs. people bustle through the streets as
the blood surges through her veins. i can feel this all around me.... however, i sit
alone in the a bar. I want to be alone, only me and the bartender. hey, did you know
i have the power to be anybody? i can go anywhere and do anything, any-fucking-way i
want to do it. However, tonight I sit alone. i sit in a basement level dive too dark
to see the clock on the wall, yet bright enough to see the bar in front of me. the
pink neon light in the window screamed in its best cursive 'MOUCHETTE' a warm and
ambient glow enveloping you like a womb welcoming all to her embrace. however,
tonight i sit alone.
The bartender is mouchette and i am only a guest in her place. like me she has the
power to be anything, but only in the minds of other people. if you were to ask her
who she was("mouchette, really who are you?")she would say she killed herself at the
brink of thirteen and in death had second thoughts. now she plays a game and through
this game she lives on. tonight mouchette is a thirty something italian woman with
the type of beauty that says you would like to fuck her, but wouldn't really perform
at your best only because you are intimidated by her razor sharp wit and her worldly
charm.. She has so many friends and you never feel good enough in her company. the
intimate encounters are few and far between and you both want more. when you are
away she is always in the back of your mind. i know all this and tonight she is only
the bartender, why she is in this spittoon of a saloon could only be guessed, but i
do know she is here... aways here for me.
"mouchette! baby doll, please pour me another." i belted.
"billy darling no need to shout; i am right here and there is no one else in the
bar." she said in a reprimanding tone."another vodka and tonic i would bet."
"right you are. you know me well."
"i know you because you know you, you know me and right now... this is all we know."
"positively insightful mouchette, I say you inspire me. you are my muse." this i
announced with a certain amount of glee.
"billy" she said while fixing my drink. "I am afraid the booze is your muse.." She
sat the drink down in front of me.
I was outraged. "mouchette, you... how could you say this? do you want to hurt me?
do you want me to feel bad?"
"again billy, this is all we know. I think you must ask yourself that question."
{what is her angle? what is she getting at? i want her to go with the flow.} i took
the drink in one gulp then slammed the heavy short glass motioning for another
drink, nectar of the gods.
" vodka and tonic yes?"
"ha!! i would like a whiskey and coke, if you put pepsi in there i will fucking
smack you." i said triumphantly "you are slipping mouchette... maybe you are not my
muse"
"the joke is on you billy." she said in a tired voice and made the drink in the same
dirty glass.
{the joke was on me. i hate whiskey. what is this? do i have control? yes, i have
all the control. when i am here i am king and she is the servant. So why do i feel
so helpless.} the neon light from out side the bar shined through my half empty
short glass, casting glimmers of light onto the slick bar top. the lights danced
across the fine finished wood as i turned the glass between my thumb and index
finger. suddenly i felt alone. no longer alone by choice, but alone... just
helplessly alone.
"well billy, I'm here" falicia said out of nowhere.
"how did you get here." I asked.
"you let me in silly, what kind of question is that." now i am simply sick of this
shit.
"are you going to fuck with me too falicia!" i shot the whiskey and the fumes and
words came out my mouth like fire. "i don't know how you got here. i don't know why
you keep coming back. i didn't open that fucking door."
"i found the door and walked through it just like you did billy, ask yourself these
questions and you will find the answers you are looking for." falicia ordered a
mineral water and drank while i thought about what she said.
i first came here when i was sixteen it was 1998 ten years passed and now i am
twenty six. i didn't give anything, i only took for one decade. she was always here
when i needed her and at times she made me feel special, at times she made me feel
worthless. I would run away but only in presence. in the stealth of the night i
would visit. the price i pay is her always haunting me, for not a day goes by... not
a day goes by. did i want a suicide kit for christmas? no, i just wanted to show
other children how to play with the toy. i am no longer a child, but i still play
with this toy.
"falicia i come here because as long as people come here i cannot die.... i will
live forever. this is the gift she gave me and i tell you, i don't know if i deserve
it." just when i thought i was opening up falicia started to laugh a hysterical
laugh. then lucy and phil join in. chris and will snow chime and it now a chorus of
laughter. joe lee, mackellar, elaine, agent orange, just a girl, and many others
have the bar quaking with laughter. in spite of myself i start to chuckle as well,
but i had to ask.
"falicia why are we laughing."
"you wanting to live forever is all fine and good," she said as she points across
the bar with her finger resting towards the bartender. "but what happens when she
dies."
that very moment i had ad a revelation and with that change a change happened in
mouchette. her cigarette burn eyes stared at me as she poured me another vodka and
tonic, her smile was just crack on her plastic face
23 May 2009 M.M. a.k.a.billy the freak the city heaves like the breath in her lungs. people bustle through the streets as the blood surges through her veins. i can feel this all around me... however, i sit alone in her bar. I want to be alone, only me and the bartender.
{hey, did you know i have the power to be anybody? i can go anywhere. yep. i can do anything, any-fucking-way i want to do it. however, tonight I sit alone. i sit in a basement level dive too dark to see the clock on the wall, yet bright enough to see the bar in front of me like a high definition painting in a cheap plastic frame. the pink neon light in the window screamed in its best cursive 'MOUCHETTE' a warm and ambient glow enveloping you like a womb welcoming all to her embrace. however, tonight i sit alone.
the bartender is mouchette and i am only a guest in her place. like me she has the power to be anything, but only in the minds of other people. if you were to ask her who she was, she would say she killed herself at the brink of thirteen and in death had second thoughts. not that she didn't want to kill herself, but wanted to know the best way to do it. now she plays a game and through this game she lives on.
tonight mouchette is a thirty something woman with the type of beauty that says you would like to love her, but wouldn't really be at your best only because you are intimidated by her razor sharp wit and her worldly charm... she has so many friends and you never feel good enough in her company. the intimate encounters are few and far between and you both want more. when you are away she is always in the back of your mind. i know all this and tonight she is only the bartender, why she is in this spittoon of a saloon could only be guessed, but i do know she is here... always here for me.
"mouchette! baby doll, please pour me another" i belted.
"billy, darling, no need to shout; i am right here and there is no one else in the bar" she said in a reprimanding tone", " another vodka and tonic i would bet?"
"right you are. you know me well "i said.
"i know you because you know you, you know me and right now... this is all we know" she replied.
"positively insightful mouchette, I say you inspire me. you are my muse." this i announced with a certain amount of glee, but not really understanding what she said. it sounded good enough.
"billy" she said while fixing my drink. "I am afraid the booze is your muse." she sat the drink down in front of me. she is speaking gobbity gook and suggesting i was an alcoholic. I was outraged.
"mouchette, you... how could you say this? do you want to hurt me? do you want me to feel bad?"
"again billy, this is all we know. I think you must ask yourself that question." she said again putting it back on me.
{what is her angle? what is she getting at? i want her to go with the flow.}
i took the drink in one gulp then slammed the heavy short glass motioning for another drink, nectar of the gods.
" vodka and tonic yes?" she called from across the bar.
"ha!! i would like a whiskey and coke, if you put pepsi in there i will fucking smack you." i said triumphantly. "you are slipping mouchette... maybe you are not my muse maybe this is just a joke."
"the joke is on you billy." she said in a tired voice and made the drink in the same dirty glass.
{and the joke was on me. i hate whiskey. in an attempt to be belligerent i asked for something i didn't want. what is this? do i have control? yes, i have all the control. when i am here i am king and she is the servant. So why do i feel so helpless.}
the neon light from out side the bar shined through my half empty short glass, casting glimmers of light onto the slick bar top. the lights danced across the fine finished wood as i turned the glass between my thumb and index finger. suddenly i felt alone. no longer alone by choice, but alone... just helplessly alone.
"well billy, I'm here" felicia said out of nowhere.
"how did you get here." I asked.
"you let me in silly, what kind of question is that?" was the condescending reply.
now i am simply sick of this shit.
"are you going to fuck with me too felicia!" i shot the whiskey down my throat and the words and fumes came out my mouth like fire.
"i don't know how you got here. i don't know why you keep coming back. i didn't open that fucking door you waltzed in here yourdamnself."
"billy right now you want me here. i found the door and walked through it just like you did. billy, ask yourself these questions and you will find the answers you are looking for". felicia ordered a mineral water and drank while i thought about what she said.
i first came here when i was sixteen it was 1998 ten years passed and now i am twenty six. i found this place when i was contemplating suicide. we all know i'm no strait lacer who tied up his shoes to awalk on the wild side. i never gave anything too much, and got so much in return. she was always here when i needed her. at times she made me feel special, at times she couldn't have made me feel more worthless. I would run away, but only in presence and in the stealth of the night i would visit. the price i pay is her always haunting me, for not a day goes by... not a day goes by. did i want a suicide kit for christmas? not really, i just wanted to show other children how to play with the toy. i am no longer a child, but i still play with this toy. i'll still show to get the max amount fun even if you just watch the other children. something eternal made fameous by the hands of its creator. that's it.
"felicia i come here because, as long as people come here i cannot die... i will live forever. this is the gift she gave me and i tell you, i don't know if i deserve it". just when i thought i was opening up felicia started to laugh a hysterical laugh. then lucy and phil joined in. chris and will snow chime in and it is now a chorus of laughter. joe lee, mackellar, elaine, odd orange, dead inside, just a girl, and many others have the bar quaking with laughter. in spite of myself i start to chuckle as well, but i had to ask.
"felicia why are we laughing?"
"although it sounds like an oxymoron in the most basic sense, you wanting to live forever is all fine and good" she said as she points across the bar with her finger resting towards the bartender "but what happens when she dies?"
that very moment i had a revelation and with that change in my mind a change happened in mouchette. her cigarette burned eyes stared at me as she poured me another vodka and tonic, her smile was just crack on her plastic face.

billy the freak
07 Mar 2009 Loki You kids need to realize that suicide is one of the most selfish things a human being can do. If you believe in the christian heaven and hell, you should check out dante's dream about hell in his book "inferno", and see where he meets "the suicides" and then see how that corrollates with the christian bible on what happens to those who destroy god's temple in self-righteousness, disowning the laws of both man and god. As an atheist, it took more than that for me, but for you tweens (no disrespect), that might be enough to reconsider. I've tried twice, and vowed to do it the right way the next time, but even the dark side of me is repulsed by the creator of this page and the people who claim to be adults giving advice to thirteen-year-olds on the right way. Fucking sick. Your feelings are very real and very important and even though it seems nobody cares or understands, somebody does. Try me. And for you fucking sick pedophilic sadistic chickenhawks with the advice... You can try me, too.
28 Feb 2009 Chrismas jones collective This is typical mouchellette,
You've had me possesse since a little boy, please...
23 Feb 2009 Christian (My name, yes) If you're under 13 all you have to do is ask your parents if you can go to a shooting range. You can plan when you are going to do this so you can be sure you are ready. You may want to go shooting a few times first to get used to firearms (What I plan on doing) so that you dont make a mistake when you shoot yourself. The best thing to do is aim a pistol at point blank range to your head and squeze the trigger and you will lose all of the pain you have. The setbacks are that someone is going to have to clean up once your dead, your parents might not let you go, and that if you aim the pistol at your head and you wimp out your life will be fucked up... Only do this when your ready.
23 Feb 2009 Christmas jones I'm not sure that I live here anymore...

23 Feb 2009 christmas jones I doubt that tonight will be different, so I once again shall skip out and not answer your originaly asked question mouchette.
I feel like the whole cities being constructed ontop of me. Like all the filthy ad space and electric lighting are engulfing me. I hate to talk like this but my reccent thoughts are blurry and confusing and only lead up to cliché descriptions like that.
I just hate waking up feeling so shitty from this.
And my memmories, they're slipping, I'm in and out of day dreams and there are so many loose ends in my head. If someone asked me how my weekend was, tommorow, I don't think I'd know what to say.
I'm emptying out of responces to the real world... and everything is becoming more and more orwellian amd surreal.
I cant help but try to burst out with emotion, just to see if i have any left...

maybe this fever will overcome me and I'll get to sleep sound through these confusing weather patterns.
10 Feb 2009 Amon Become a born-again Christian. It's not suicide exactly, but you won't be living your life, that's for damned sure.
17 Jan 2009 Jolo I've been coming to this site for a little more than two years.
so, here it goes...
My life, I have a good life, Loving family, alot of loving friends. Do you think I'm happy? Do you?

NO!

No I'm not, after all the good things I've been through, I don't feel it. I HATE MYSELF! I'm just a small sack off shit wating to decompose. I haven't done anything right. Unless wrong is right, then Ive done alot of it! My life isn't fucked up, I AM! People around me love me, even if they tease me all the time I know they love me, or at least I think they do. I love them, especially my parents. Why am I here? That's because I don't deserve to live, my life is to good for me! They give me their best and I give them my worst. What kind of person am I! Oh yeah, I'm the sorry sack of shit! I hope I have some pills right now! To add to the dissapointment, It's our junior prom on Feb. I don't have a date! I'm a fucking loser! Why did I exist in the first place! I have no use in this world. I'm just another waste of resources.

When I was 7 I always wanted to take pictures, but at 9 something felt wrong, I felt that I was the only one different. Since then I avoided taking pictures, unless people force me. Now I'm 16, still a useless pile of shit! I cut myself, I burn myself, I started smoking just because of the fact that it could kill, I even drink this fuel for model cars, which kinda taste like 3 times the strongest tequila you've ever drunk, because it has the skull and crossbones logo, poison! can Kill! Yeah right I've been drinking it for a month and nothing happens.

What am I gonna do now? should I kill myself now and save the others? or should I just let life fuck me as it already does.

If there are an Christians out there Pls pray for me, so that I could have a date for the prom, maybe that's just the pathetic reason why I'm so depressed. Oh well, I doubt that even having my dream girl would put me out of this misery.

Pls help me. If it's death or a good life, you wish for me, thank you for your prayers
13 Jan 2009 Hi im Jesus H. Christ! eat a lot of peanuts untill they get stuck in ur anus and u cant pooh anymore, so you explode. it happened to my friends puppy once. TRY IT! ............wow im wierd. sorry.
04 Jan 2009 spookypenguin Bob Dylan - not my words, but my prospective.

Christmas Jonnes - When i feel like the whitey asshole i am.

the poets entourage - I cringe at my own idealism

death - fun times

Spooky Penguin - me
25 Dec 2008 Waiting Do you know what I just realized today? I just come to the conclusion that the only time my "friends" give a shit about me is when they think I maybe dead. It just goes to show how empty and heartless people are nowadays. Oh, and happy christmas or whatever you celebrate this time of year Mouchette, I hope that you love life better than I do.
18 Dec 2008 Aureus Dear Mouchette,

All I want for Christmas is exsanguination.

Sincerely, me.
11 Dec 2008 Christmas Jones So I lay down a while
And I gaze at my hotel wall
Oh the cot is so cold
It don't feel like no bed at all
Yeah I lay down a while
And I gaze at my hotel wall
But he's down on the street
So I throw both his bags down the hall
And I'm phoning a cab
'Cause my stomach feels small
There's a taste in my mouth
And it's no taste at all

It could have been me
Oh yeah, it could have been me
Why didn't I say,
Why didn't I say, no, no, no
08 Dec 2008 Kuborion Girl of sixteen
Whole life ahead of her
Slashed her wrists
Bored with life
Didn't succeed
Thank the Lord
For small mercies

Fighting back the tears
Mother reads the note again
Sixteen candles burn in her mind
She takes the blame
It's always the same
She goes down on her knees and prays

I don't want to start
Any blasphemous rumours
But I think that God's
Got a sick sense of humour
And when I die
I expect to find Him laughing

Girl of eighteen
Fell in love with everything
Found new life
In Jesus Christ
Hit by a car
Ended up
On a life support machine

Summer's day
As she passed away
Birds were singing
In the summer sky
Then came the rain
And once again
A tear fell
From her mother's eye

I don't want to start
Any blasphemous rumours
But I think that God's
Got a sick sense of humour
And when I die
I expect to find Him laughing

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