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 Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2008 10:09 pm
A/N: This is something I've been working on for a while. It's a collection of stories, all very true and quite recent, that have been rewritten to fit the person who went through those events. Enjoy, and please give feedback!
First Chapter
This is a story of a Father who killed his two daughters, and wife, then committed Suicide.
Written from the eldest daughter’s point of view.
This happened June 12th, 2008, in Ottawa, Canada.
Screaming, gunshots blasting close to my head, all I could hear was my mother screaming and my father yelling back. I looked through a crack in the closet in my living room, to see my father standing over my mother with a loaded gun, smoke rolling from the barrel after he had shot my mother. Two more shots sounded, to make sure that my mother was dead. I curl up in the tightest ball I could, hiding my face in my hands and crying softly. My ‘dad’ then ran into the kitchen and grabbed my younger sister by her hair and dragged her into the living. He commenced yelling at her, calling her names, and cursing. He then pointed the gun at her head and pulled the trigger. The look in his eyes scared me so deeply; I just knew I was going to be killed… He then began to call my name. He called it in an affectionate manner, like he would call me for dinner, like nothing of what I had just witnessed took place at all. I kept quiet, except for the few sobs that had escaped between my fingers. He ran all over our house, upstairs, ripping open closet doors and tearing through all of our bedrooms… He calmly came back down the stairs, I know because I could hear his feet on the stairs. I saw him through the small crack in the closet I was hiding in. He was fixing his hair, pushing it back out of his face. He then walked up to the closet I was in, opened it, grabbed me by my hair and threw me onto the living room floor. He started screaming at me “You’re part of your mother! You have to die as well!” and then pointed a gun at me. I looked into his eyes, pleading “No daddy…Please no…” while I sobbed. I could see in his eyes that he was going to murder me. I could see that there was no way out of this. His eyes had changed from that of the man I knew a few years ago, who was always so caring and loving. He said one last thing, “Whore”, and then pulled the trigger, and my world went black.
Later on, the father ended up driving four hours away. After contemplating it for an hour, he shot himself in the head over the “grief” or whatever it was he felt.
This all happened yesterday…Two young girls got their lives stolen from them from the person who brought them into this world, along with their mother. Two innocent young girls….The **** is wrong with this world.
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2008 10:10 pm
Second Chapter
This is a story of 4 teen suicides.
It is written from the point of view of the third victim, Asya Laykin, who did October 18, 2005.
This happened in a span of 18 months, from 2004 thru 2006.
Sitting in the corner of my room,
Thoughts racing through my head.
Thinking of the three before me,
And how easy it is to be dead.
I don’t know what this push means,
This pressure in corners of my mind.
I franticly look around myself,
And death is all I find.
Through a small crack in the door,
I can hear my father’s breathing.
I put the knife to my wrist,
And it begins, only bleeding.
I look up for a moment,
Reflecting upon my life.
I realize there’s nothing left,
And press deeper with the knife.
Black and White are gone now,
Things are slowly starting to fade.
All colors mixed into themselves,
The only thing left is Grey.
A tear falls silently upon my cheek,
As I slowly lift the silver,
And as it grows dim,
A piece of life is left…Only a sliver.
I softly exhale,
As I pass from this existence.
This was my time to die…
I held on so long…But it took only this instance.
The three other deaths;
Gotto (First Victim) Age 19; passed in 2004.
Hong (Second Victim) Age 13; passed in 2004. The same day as Gotto.
Leykin (Third Victim) Age 17; passed in 2005.
Shapiro (Fourth/Final Victim) Age 17; passed in April, 2006.
Written from the point of view of Asya Leykin, who died October 18, 2005, in her bedroom while her father slept down the hall….
America, still believe there’s no problem?
Vincent, The Suicide Nation
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2008 10:11 pm
Third Chapter
A/N: This is a very personal story… It is in regards to an author named David Foster Wallace, who took his life on September 12th, 2008. I met this man on two occasions, and from both I could tell he was an amazing individual. May this do him justice, and may he rest in peace…
Sitting in the dark, the evening dew on the windows.
Looking at the books that my mind has helped create.
Fighting with the demons locked deep inside of me.
I’m fighting through just to let it all go…
My hands tremble as I take out a rope,
Mind fleeting back to those I love.
I picture my wife, crying and screaming…
Suddenly, I have lost all hope…
I tie the small knots in the hard rope.
Tears falling down with every thought.
I stand on my chair and tie it to the ceiling…
And slowly put my neck through the hole…
With bloodshot eyes, and tears still falling,
I finally work up the courage to say my final goodbyes.
“I’ll miss you all, and I’m so sorry…”
“But, in the end… It is my time…”
With that, I take my life like the chair from beneath my feet.
And pray, beg for forgiveness… And for less pain for those who love me…
This man was a great inspiration to all, and a wonderful author. He was born in February 1962, and died September 12th, 2008. I do this in honor of him, of a man who finally had enough of this world. May you always be in peace my friend….
Vincent, SN
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