Suicidal

I'm just going to write part of the story because I'm terrible at descriptions.
"See, Harry," I say, showing him a beautiful picture of the city, "these are reasons to live."
"Looks like a perfect place to die to me," Harry says.
"Harry, just listen to me. You're not worthless. You're not fat. You're not ugly. Please just stop saying these terrible things about yourself."
"Yes I am. People tell me that all the time. They tell me to slit my wrists, I listen to them. They tell me I'm worthless, I believe them. They tell me I'm fat, I listen to them and starve myself. So people don't think the same as you. But it's not like it matters what one person says," Harry says sadly.
"Awwww, my poor little cupcake! It's okay, sweetie, I'll help you," I tell him.
"A-and AJ," Harry stutters, "P-people say that you hate me and want me to die just as much as them. Is that true?"
"No, Harry. I love you very, very much. Please don't do these terrible things to yourself."
Read the rest to find out!