Prologue

Suicide. I'm only a 10 year old kid when that stupid thing came up to my mind. Even so, my life didn't stop right away. I'm still alive in the next few years, breathing normally. At least, physically I'm fine until the day I wrote this.

Someone once asked me, "You always look calmed, are you not afraid of anything?". At that time, I did not answer at all, but in my heart I laughed at the ridiculous question.

I'm a normal human. Of course there are many things that I'm afraid of, such as falling from a height, getting stabbed by a knife, robbers, snakes, crocodiles or similar beasts. I'm afraid of everything that puts my life in danger, just like most people.

However, among the long list of things I fear, there is one that is at the top—the scariest thing i can think of—and that is life. I think this is funny. I'm afraid of anything that could lead to death, while the thing that I find the scariest is staying alive.

I sound like a silly guy, don't I? But that's how it is. In my eyes, staying alive and moving on with life looks really terrible. Everything that happened to me and those around me prompted that thought. That death is the best solution for all problems.

Can I just end this scary life? Nah. I'm a coward. Every time my hands gripped a knife, rope, or poison—every time I prepared to die—my body trembled with fear. What if I end up regretting it? I stared intently at the blade on my skin.

Come to think of it, why would I want to end my life? It was annoying every time my suicide attempts reached this point. I have no real reason to die. I can't kill myself. What is the significance of that reason?

As maturity came, other unimportant things bothered me. I was starting to worry about what other people would think if they found my body after committing suicide.

Would they be disgusted and let me rot without being buried? Will they curse my body as bad luck? How many will curse my funeral or spit as they pass by my grave? It can't happen. They should at least let my body return to the ground.

That's why I wrote this note. I hope that you—whoever reads this—will be touched. Touched enough to dig the ground for my grave. That's all my hope. No more and no less.

The next page you will read is the reason I killed myself. Even though at the time of writing I still don't know the reason, I hope that whatever the reason, you will not criticize it.

***

This story is an entertainment, if you think so. This story is a lesson, if that's what you're looking for. This story is a nuisance if you hate it.

However, there will be many things that are contrary to your opinions and beliefs. Some may line up with you, and make you want to end your life. I can't stop whatever your brain wants to think. But, at least, try to only take the positive side.