It has been more than a week after reading thirteen reasons, but recently I often suddenly think of it, and some clips will suddenly linger in my mind, and sometimes even my back feels very eery.
I logged on to facebook today and suddenly found a good friend was posting a photo of his friend, hashtag RIP, my heart was tight. On closer inspection, his friend committed suicide.
I read the facebook of him and his friends, and found that sometimes reality and fiction are similar to scary.
This is the last long post he left on Facebook before he left:
There is despair and relief in the text. It reads like oh he went to a party and didn't like the people there, big deal. No one can ever experience the pain of another person.
The first floor of Post was his own reply 15 hours later. From the fear in the first sentence to the decisiveness in the last sentence, it was his last breath before dying. Whether anyone has reached out to him in the past 15 hours, PM him, called him, knocked on his door, looked for him, contacted his relatives and friends, I don’t know. But on this social platform that he used to shout for the last time, no one has given him a reply during these 15 hours.
I also saw his mother’s message on his Facebook and officially notified his friends of his departure:
A mother saw her son's last words on Facebook, and then announced his departure to his "friends" on Facebook. There is nothing more cruel, absurd, and heartbreaking.
Another friend of his wrote today’s post that the day the boy committed suicide sent 100 photos of the people in his life who made him happy.
Contrary to the tape of 13 interrogation crimes, he chose to bid farewell to the good things in his life again. As he said, he is sorry for this small group of people who give him happiness
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I have recently chatted with friends. Many decent and kind people, including myself, have done extremely evil things as children when they were young, or watched extremely evil things happen. Those things will probably never be forgotten. In elementary school, everyone bullied the girl who did not study well and had poor conditions at home. In middle school, he shouted sissy with friends and pushed him to the corner of the boy, not asking them for forgiveness, but just begging them to be well.
And many more people slowly collapse in dark places. Our daily life may be a knife pierced on them, and our laughter may be their heart-piercing. They are like insects that we walk along the road every day and are run over without notice, or birds that choke to death with plastic bags that we throw away.
When I look at the news every day, the world is already full of malice and panic. I just hope that I can prick my ears and hear the silent calls for help around me.
April 14, 2017
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