|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.|
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?
|25 Apr 2013||Chloe||tear me into pieces|
|23 Apr 2013||Maxwell||Pills from the cabinet|
|23 Apr 2013||Apollo||I was in the garden with the roses when Racheal came to me. She was such a sweet girl with rosy blushed cheeks and who loved to get to high places. She lived on top a hill with me where she would have tea parties with the whales and the sea. Racheal was a cherry, plucked ripe and red, delicious scent like my garden. I asked to come closer, one bite and she would be mine. Every night I would put her into a lovely bed with rose-colored silken coverings stuffed with violets and she slept and dreamt as lovely dreams as any queen on her wedding day. She was the bowl of acid red cherries sitting on top of the kitchen counter, she was my radiant Hyacinth in electric blue. Her beauty enough to ignite gods to feud. And I was the all knowing Apollo, I would sit in my garden and count the varieties of flowers I had. I had every type of flower and every flower in my garden has a different story to tell. They are the most beautiful flowers in the world, and they are prettier then any picture-book. But Racheal was my only Hyancinth. Every night I would feed her toxic core peaches and delivery pizza until she feel asleep. Every flower cheered at Racheal, and she loved the attention. She jumped for joy and played till the sun went down. She was mine to keep and I kept her in a room of gold. Once a day she would ask the flowers their dreams and they would tell her and while they told their stories I would comb her hair. I would comb her hair with a golden comb and her hair would sparkle ink black around her pretty oval face.|
|23 Apr 2013||dont do it||crawl out of your mums womb and quickly wrap the chord around your neck.|
|21 Apr 2013||Maria||Penso usare dei farmaci|
|20 Apr 2013||To suck it up and deal with life.|
|20 Apr 2013||j||a hammer repeatedly to the face|
|20 Apr 2013||raquel||listen to justin bieber for more than 4 hours|
|11 Apr 2013||deborah||Jump off a bridge into freezing water. Quick and painless. they will never find your body.|
|03 Apr 2013||Bryan Cole||Steal your mothers prescription drugs|
|02 Apr 2013||Fbfbd||Belt|
|25 Mar 2013||why live when there aint shit left?|
|22 Mar 2013||suicide is a alone thing and it only works for those that are alone in every shape way and form. like me. bye|
|19 Mar 2013||death is near||i would not of come if it werent the fact my niece is soon to be born. i would of stayed in cali with my dog rther thn be the continuous back sheep outsider of a family that just acts like i mtter when in reality i really dont mean shit to any of them. scars is all i have but they dont care. scars all i kno but my heart is all that hurts. nothing in this life can keep me here no more. for once my dog has gone over the rainbow bridge i will too.|
|19 Mar 2013||eduardo||bebe 40 caballitos de tequila, y duerme
drink 40 shots of tequila, and then sleep
|16 Mar 2013||skylar||DONT PLEASE DONT|
|07 Mar 2013||Deadicus Edifus.||The sweetness of still lingering nothing.
The cold dark, O how I long for thee.
To embrace the sleep of nonexistence.
For A moment of peace from the disgust writhing as maggots in my core.
O what delight it brings, knowing this shall be mine.
|05 Mar 2013||orena||gun|
|05 Mar 2013||lexi||oh my god, i love some of the stuff on here! its so beautiful and poetic. the woods seems to be common in the poetic deaths. i may write a suicide :)|
|03 Mar 2013||JFB||Overdose of dreams.|