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(THEMES OF SUICIDE) His diary was the only thing they hadn't seen. It recounted of memories, of his childhood, and things he loved. It took all the strength in his mother's body to open those first few pages. He had gotten this diary as a birthday present from his late father a few years ago, and he had kept it ever since. The front cover was a faded green, and the pages looked as if they had been stained. But everything was still legible. There were normal, daily things on the pages. About his Father, who he was, and about his family. He would do anything for his family, as his mother would recall, flicking through his daily routine. He always circled back to his little sister, how he wanted to see her grow up. But the pages soon turned. It wasn't as if she didn't know, but there was nothing she could do to prevent it. The darkness that swarmed his head, the thoughts he kept lurking inside. It was horrible to live like that, and...he did. He lived his life with the darkness, and ended it with them, too. The final page was a goodbye. A letter to his family, a letter to everyone else. His mother wept, wetting the book with her tears. His little sister came into the room to read, hugging tightly onto his mother. If only he had spoken to them. If only he was still here.
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