A black-haired teenager with green eyes and a huge pair of eyebags was furiously typing away at something on his keyboard.
The name of the teenager was Siwang, quite the funny name considering his circumstances.
As was often the case, something Siwang had read or watched had prompted him to write. A diary of some sort. To keep track of his thoughts.
Today, he felt the urgent need to write about methods of killing himself. He felt compelled to document every single method of committing suicide, which he could possibly think of. Starting today, he will be leading a diary with his experiences to share with others.
Because surely if he talked about it to someone in real life, no one would believe that he had managed to cheat death three times, but life on the internet was different.
Everyone was anonymous and all kinds of nutcases hung around in a single circle of depression, believing everything.
He self-harmed himself multiple times, but only a few of those times were truly deadly, yet he always survived.
The reason why he would write this down is that he had over twenty million of these so-called "fans" watching his "content".
He never expected his website to become so popular and it all began with the thing which most often drew visitors to his website.
It was something he wrote about suffocation or asphyxiation as a means of suicide ages ago. He wrote it just for himself to keep a track of things and maybe leave some kind of message for his parents to see once they found his dead body and went through his computer files.
Apparently, though, a lot of people searched the internet to look for good ways to kill themselves soundly and painlessly. With a stroke of "luck", they found his depressive mess of a website, and some even subscribed for a few dollars to keep him posting more ways.
That was also the only reason he could currently afford not to leave his room in his apartment. He was pretty well off.
You know, he thought about it a lot, like a lot of times.
What it would mean to finally get it over with.
To stop hearing the voices of the other students who whispered about him in the hallways as he passed by.
To stop being a disappointment to his parents.
To stop the weird feeling of anxiousness welling up in his chest whenever he went outside.
To just give in. Who wouldn't think about it in his position?
He had even thought about what effect it would have on his parents, sister, and friends.
As if he even had a single friend.
So yes, he had thought about the meaning of suicide, many many times.
And to him, it sounded pretty damn nice right now.
Currently, he planned on fully posting each and every one of his attempts, one by one on the website, until one of them worked, and the moment he stopped posting, people would realize he had finally managed to kill himself.
Of course, that way, he wouldn't be able to tell them he died, right? That's why he set it up beforehand, telling his viewers and subscribers which method he was going to use, and afterward, if it failed, he would tell them the exact level of Agony, Difficulty, Lenght, and the name of the Deadly Method.
There were also those who were desperately trying to cure themselves of their problems with mental health, alcoholism, and addiction and asked him for advice so he gave them one.
"Kill yourself. If you are scared of pain, wait for me to find the most painless death and try that. If it doesn't work try again and again and again and again and again until you are finally dead." Siwang lifelessly typed on his keyboard, sending messages to his "fans" that wished to die or were just curious about his site overall.
People visited his website for all kinds of different reasons, and as a source of information on how to kill yourself, his site stood above the rest and even showed up as the first one in the search bar if you typed suicide.
It wasn't any suicide prevention hotline, nor any tips not to kill yourself. It was straight up his website, unfiltered for people to visit.
There were libraries out there that were full of books that explained in exquisite detail how people have ended their own lives since they took pen to parchment, or chiseled runes into rock. For those who sought, they will find.
Siwang noticed a lot of criticism of the owner/operators of forums where suicide is predominantly discussed, and prominent popular individuals who have large social media followings have been criticized for their participation in the online discussion of suicide which has coalesced around their digital persona.
People have to be very clear about something here: people needed and wanted to talk about suicide.
Making it a taboo subject, and ridiculous fantasies about book burning and the modern-day digital equivalent - banning websites - failed to address any of the underlying causes of why people took their own lives.
People don't kill themselves because they're encouraged by others, online. People don't kill themselves because they're able to easily find information about the methods of suicide.
The reasons why people killed themselves were as complex as the individuals who ended their lives prematurely, and to point the finger of blame was pointless; futile.
While it might have been true that people saw 'outbreaks' of suicides which clustered together geographically, almost like a conventional viral, bacterial or parasitic infection, passed from person to person, this did not mean that newspapers, magazines, TV & radio stations, and the modern digital equivalents, should never talk about suicides, or the methods.
There was no evidence to prove that journalistic guidelines had in any way reduced the likelihood that fellow friends, classmates, and other people in the vicinity of suicide, will commit suicide themselves.
People were missing the point and Siwang knew that. That was also why he was spreading awareness of this.
If one person in a particular area of the country, of a certain age, living a certain lifestyle, was compelled to end their life, then why should people be surprised that there were many others who were living on the edge too?
It was absolutely untrue that the media and the internet were in any way shape or form responsible for pushing and/or prompting people to end their lives.
People also had to answer the difficult question: was it ethical to force a person to live a miserable and unbearable life? Was it unethical to force a person to endure unending suffering? The answer was, yes. That's why Siwang wanted to kill himself in the first place, but found out something about himself the moment he did.
There were a few core issues he was confused about.
First, the moment he tried killing himself for the first time after a long period of deliberation, weird things started happening.
The knife in his hands had as if jumped away from his hands, sliding onto the floor.
Siwang stared at it for a bit before reaching out his hand towards it in an attempt to go through with his act, but the moment he touched it, the blade of the kitchen knife came off, sliding across the kitchen floor under a nearby fridge where Siwang couldn't reach.
It was as if some unknown entity was preventing him from killing himself.
This continued with several other knives until he somehow managed to pick up a shard of one of the knives that fell apart and he finally sliced his throat.
Slowly bleeding out and closing his eyes forever, Siwang was glad it was finally over for him, but then, his consciousness warped and he found himself back in the kitchen, without a wound on his neck, completely fine.
He turned his head around, as if in a dream.
The wound was nowhere to be seen, all of the knives that fell apart were back where they were placed before and he was currently holding the first knife that fell apart in his hands.
That was the start of everything...Before he had a website, he attended school regularly and even had a part-time job in a nearby supermarket store.
He couldn't talk about this to anyone as people would view him as a bigger loser and creep than they already did. He was gloomy and never really talked to anyone, and this sparked a few people who bothered him on a daily basis.
"Hey there, buddy Siwang! Haven't seen you since yesterday! You got that money I asked of you?" A large, burly man in the third year of his university whose name was Yen, put his hands around his shoulders as teachers cautiously watched from the distance.
"Let's move...We wouldn't want people to notice right? We are good friends, aren't we? If I get caught I might be in for a problem...but so will you." Yen hugged him closer to himself, crushing him under his strong arms.
Forcing out a smile, Siwang nodded and replied, "Sure!"
As they were moving together, a small headache abruptly hit Siwang's head as his vision went red.
"Oi! What are you doing!? People would think I hit you or something! Get up! Hurry!" Yen shouted as a few of the students gathered around to see what was happening.
Siwangs ears were ringing. His head snapped up. He was sitting on the ground, sweating and breathing hard. Yen was looking at him with an ugly scowl on his face, looking around to make sure no teachers were around.
He was already on probation for attempts at bullying students and he couldn't afford to be reported again.
Siwang looked up at him, uncomprehending and disoriented as he slowly stood up, still seeing everything in crimson.
Just then, he abruptly saw a weird series of red numbers hanging above Yen's head.
"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Yen was shouting yet Siwang was completely out of it.
That was the first time, Siwang found out about his ability, or rather, one of his abilities. He certainly wasn't a normal human being.
Back then, it only showed up briefly and his vision soon turned back to normal, but one day, everything he saw, every living being he looked at had those red numbers above their heads.
That was the start of his breakdown. He couldn't tell anyone as no one would believe him, he was deep into depression before that, but now he really just wanted to leave this world for good.
He tried to kill himself two more times since then, and it all went poorly.
The noose he setup, went loose immediately once he started choking.
The pills he ate, wanting to die of overdosing, he shat them out instead, feeling terrible abdominal pain, but nothing was wrong with him.
It felt like something was preventing him from dying. He didn't know what, but he would find out one day.
Later that day.
There was a documentary he was watching and it particularly annoyed him when a so-called expert came onto the program to say those suicidal thoughts were usually fleeting, and that they quickly passed; they essentially said that depression was temporary in a particularly dismissive manner and that people should shut up and put up with it. This made him furious.
"How does he dare...He doesn't have any idea what it is...How it feels..." Siwang grit his teeth in anger as he punched the carpet beside him.
People didn't end their lives whimsically. Suicides were meticulously planned.
The formation of the idea of killing one's self was something that had taken place during years of terrible suffering.
Siwang dared to say that it was unethical to act in any kind of way to prevent a suffering person from achieving relief from the terrible torments which they have decided are too unbearable.
It was their life at the end of the day. It was selfish to ask them to keep living an intolerable miserable suffering-filled existence... for what reason?
So that some people don't feel sad once they pass? Get over yourself. Get a grip. Have some compassion. Show a little empathy.
If there were people who were tired of living, but were still scared of dying and wanted someone to be there for them to prevent them from taking their lives then sure, you could help them in some way. By a hug, by giving them an understanding pat on the back, and hearing them out.
Maybe that was what most people needed, an extending help. But there were some cases which you couldn't help, no matter how hard you tried.
It was impossible to help someone who wanted to die with resolution. Siwang was a prime example of that.