The Suicide Letters

Prolouge

This is the story of a young girl, named Stephanie Gunther, who killed herself at age 15. Be warned, this story may get very brutal, and very upsetting. Stop reading now, if you dare. She wrote this before she hung herself on March 18, 2014

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Mom and Dad - I'm sorry

I was in 7th grade when I was being cyber bullied online, and bullied at school for little things like my physical appearance. None of the other kids knew what was happening to me inside of my mind.

About 6 months after that happened, my life started to spiral out of control. My parents had gotten in a huge fight, putting all the weight on my shoulders. All I had left was absolutely nothing.

The bullying had kept going. Teachers saw, but they did nothing because they knew those kids who hurt me all too well. After a year, I started to cut, and burn myself. I wanted to die, but I just didn't know if I really wanted to.

My first suicide attempt was in 8th grade. It was the summer, and my friend had invited me to a pool party. I felt like crap that day, so I decided to try and drown myself in the 9 feet deep pool area. As you could have guessed, it was a fail, and my friends never thought I would do such a thing.

After that suicide attempt, my life seemed to get even more twisted. I wrote this poem to leave for my parents, and I feel as it describes me too well, that no one would think about who it is actually talking about:

A Useless Piece of Plastic Metal

The way you make me feel,

Is nothing that anybody,

Could ever think of.

Your words put me down

Like I'm some useless,

Piece of plastic metal.

Then that useless piece of

Plastic metal sits there,

Thinking of what it had done

To deserve all of the pain that

You once caused it.

That pain doesn't go away,

Until the rightful horror,

Says sorry, so that this,

Useless piece of plastic metal,

Will mean something after all.

In the end,

That useless piece of plastic metal,

Only seems more and more,

Unique, instead of being called a freak.

How did I become so dark? My life had pilled on top of me, like someone was going to find out about all of my dark secrets. I had no idea why bad things happen to the nicest people in the world. It's just not the truth.

It's like their soul just wants them eaten alive, so their sins can be terminated throughout their bodies. All they want from them is that they will care about every damn bad thing that these demons will make you go out of your mind. They take each word to heart, and when they stop fighting, they will not have anything left to hold onto.

I tried to suicide once again six months later. This time I tried to overdose, by chugging an entire bottle of NyQuil and took half a bottle of sleeping pills. I was actually glad that I woke up the next morning.

When I woke up, I stumbled across the hallway, when my mom had asked me, "Steph, are you okay?" She then started rambling on about how sorry she was about my dad and her fight last night. At once, she saw me passed out on the floor. That is pretty much all I remembered about that morning.

I woke up in the ER. Needles were stuck in me, and a nurse quickly rushed by my side when I let out a slight yawn. I realized that I had a tube stuffed into my left side, below my lungs.

My mom came over towards me, and she whispered in my ear, "I'm sorry. I never should have fought with your dad." A single tear fell from her eye.