My name is Anouk Borsboom, I’m 17 years old and I’ve been dead for 9 years now. From my 8 years of being alive I only remember slivers, negative emotions and facts I’ve been told later. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a zombie. I haven’t actually physically died, but somewhere along the lines when I was 8 I stopped living and started surviving. Ever since the attack on my life, surviving was all I could do. The one responsible, was me. Well… I was the only one directly responsible, there are many others who are indirectly the cause. I’ve been told I was a happy kid, calm but energetic and likeable. How did that girl end up with a death wish? Bullying, neglect, trauma, pressure, marginalisation, discrimination. They’ll never have to pay for what they did, I’ll never be able to get my revenge. Most of them won’t even know the damage they’ve caused. Still I ended up seriously and consciously wanting to end my life, I had even considered multiple ways. I was saved, not by someone who cared for me or something noble, it wasn’t even my own sanity. I didn’t kill myself because then all the hours I’d invested in my games would be wasted. I know right, very funny. Feel free to laugh, not like something so simple can hurt my feelings anymore. The thing with suicidal thoughts is that none of us really want to die. We just rather lose all chance of recovery than having to continue suffering. We just want to escape, disappear and leave our worries behind us. For me it was games and books, I was reading Harry potter by the time I was 6. I loved reading and I was a total bookworm. Now that I look back I didn’t enjoy it because the stories were so great, but because they were worlds I could temporarily hide in. Far far away from everything that bothered me. To be honest I have no idea how an 8 year old would have offed herself but eh, it’s where the darkness starts.