Heya.
I said there would be more to come. I've been thinking about these two people a lot today so thought it might be a good time to write a little something. I have known a lot of people who have died one way or another but these two affected me the most.
Rose used to live next door to me. Where my grandparents died when I was very young Rose took over that role in my life. I would go round her house everyday and we'd have chocolate biscuits and milk and I'd play with my toys. She was my best friend(Iwas 7 she as 84). She started going a little mad and saying how her brother (who had died during the war) hadn't come home that night etc. The next thing was she locked me in her house, I through a fit and my mum went mad at her. Rose shouted back "you've never loved that child" and the next day I wasn't allowed to go and see her until the evening. When I did go see her she was in her pj's and was in a bad shape. I ran and got my mum and she was rushed to hospital.
The next day Rose had a stroke and took a turn for the worse. That evening my dad told me we could go visit Rose tomorrow, of course I ran downstairs to tell my mum, only to discover that Rose had died. I cried.
When I found her she was dying, the doctors done their best but it was too late. I always wished I had ignored my mum and gone round there earlier and found her, made her some food and I always thought if I'd done that then she would have lived. At the funeral I was upset, I was told that I didn't need to go but I knew I did. I loved Rose more then her only family, my world fell apart the day she died and I needed to say goodbye.
My dad dragged me up to her coffin and told me that if I was bad then thats where I would end up. Didn't help me much.
Sorry if this is graphic.
Stuart moved in next door to me just before chrismas 2001. Come Feb 2002 there was a smell in our house. It got worse and worse to the point where you wanted to be sick. We thought our cat had brought something in (that was dead) and we searched for anything but nothing came up. My brother woke me up (early hours) of the day before my 12th birthday telling me to go downstairs. Apparently Stuart had killed himself. Tied a cord around his neck and hanged himself from his staircase. The smell was his body rotting, all his windows were shut and heating on. His wife had and he were seperated because she cheated on him with his best friend of 10 years. The real blow came when she told him his son who he loved wasn't his. Not a day has gone by where I haven't thought about him, strange because its not like he was a good friend or anything but I always find the story sad and feel bad for him and think of his son growing up without his real dad around. It always hurts me when people say suicide is selfish or anything like that because Stuart was not being selfish he was doing what he thought was the best thing because he was in that state of mind where he had nothing else to live for.
Suicide affects a lot of people, I am now 18 and it still haunts me - we weren't close. Something to think about....
loves
iFairy
