My Titanic Story

Reads 26
Votes 0
Parts 3
Time 5m

Reads 26
Votes 0
Parts 3
Time 5m

death love modern saddness suicide titanic

I was young. Still a girl of age twelve, but I remember the night clearly. The cold, cold night when my family was torn away from me.

(Modern Version)All Rights Reserved

death love modern saddness suicide titanic

Table of contents

3 parts

#391saddness

Content Guidelines

You may also like

Everyone was talking about their new years resolutions, planning parties, and excitedly getting ready for the new year. Except for me. I wouldn't make it to New Years, I was sure of it. After living like this for so long, I was ready to go. December 29th. It was snowing, freezing cold, everyone busy speeding down the highway, except for me. The brown haired girl wearing nothing but a pair of torn jeans, a white dress, red jacket, and ratty old converse standing at the top of the bridge, preparing to jump off. But then he stopped me, and my life would never be the same.

" 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈'𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐈 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞."

*TBD*

This is a story I produced between the age of 11 and 14; it is not perfect, but I'm too sentimental to edit it.

Family ain't always blood...

The day when the rain began the bitch said to be dead, I didn't know whether it was true or a lie but had no choice or traces but to assume that bitch was alive. Everyone pushed to believe that bitch was dead, killed, or else suicide. Police were investigating whether the bitch was killed or kicked the bucket, but some external things pushed them to investigate it. Whatever it was going to be, bitch's gone.

{I lost him a while back, but I didn't realise until it was too late. Until he was gone for good.} TW for depression, suicide, and lots of existentialism.

I was tiered of my life. I was never happy, and I hadn’t been for a long time. I just couldn’t get that night out of my mind. It haunted me in daytime, it haunted me at nighttime. And if I ever did get the memories out of my head, even if it was just for a moment, some idiot would have to come up and ask me about that night. So really I had no choice but to leave. I was only gone for a couple of weeks, but my life changed completely.

I was drowning. I knew that. I also knew that the hands around my throat, pushing me deeper into the river water was the cause. What I didn't know was who was drowning me and why. It hurt thinking. It hurt to do anything right now. But I still screamed under the cold water and pushed the hands away as hard as I could. It didn't have much effect. I fought and fought, but I was getting weaker, and colder. The pain was overbearing. I couldn't breathe. It was the worst pain imaginable; and as the hands that were around my neck were forcibly ripped off by some unknown force, I slipped deeper into the depths of the river. My hair was straight above me along with my arms. My eyes were open and the water burned. A darkness started to pull me under, taking the pain away. I felt a small pressure around my waist, before the darkness completely consumed me. The last thing I remember is thinking, save me.

Attempting Love

Everyone was talking about their new years resolutions, planning parties, and excitedly getting ready for the new year. Except for me. I wouldn't make it to New Years, I was sure of it. After living like this for so long, I was ready to go. December 29th. It was snowing, freezing cold, everyone busy speeding down the highway, except for me. The brown haired girl wearing nothing but a pair of torn jeans, a white dress, red jacket, and ratty old converse standing at the top of the bridge, preparing to jump off. But then he stopped me, and my life would never be the same.

More details