Comparisons to Suicide

It just happens. You might just walk into a school bathroom to see crimson red plastered on the wall, a pool of vermillion creeping along the floor, spreading its influence like a plague. A body of any color could be sitting in the middle of the bloody lake, wearing any fashion, any hairstyle, either gender, but all those that are like this share one thing. They are bathing in their own blood, soaking themselves, and others' minds, the color of a rich, cherry red. That stain can never be removed, displaced into a dark corner where it will never arise. No, it stays there, the scar of lifelong injury that had never bothered to maintain its own existence. Why would they have done this to themselves, sparing the time needed to self-induce a brief moment of sudden and extreme agony, only to seal it over with the never-ending veil of blackness we call death? It could be anything, from a family member, finding out that they are forever lame or gone, to maybe even a school paper, not meeting the expectations of you or a superior. There are infinite reasons, and no finite description of it. What the person is thinking, we might never know, because once they have made the decision to die, they don't turn back from it. The post-suicide state has no second branch. It is one road, ending on the edge of the cliff; a cliff that the person has already jumped. There is no rope of life to bring it back. Life is not a video game. You get no second life. But what could be horrible and enough to become something that can be in comparison to suicide? You probably can think of more possibilities than I can, but as said before, there are indefinite reasons. We are not the ones that are allowed to interpret the reasons behind the self-induced urges to kill oneself. These vexing matters cannot stop, for while fear and misery are allowed to taint this world, death and dying is inevitable. Even in harmony, we live with the sounds of people taking their last breaths. You never know if you might be alive to see the new sun, or if your blood has found a way to desert you, leaving you in the hands of a god to toy with for eternity. Some should die in this world, for their soul is in a body not suited for our lifestyle. However, others should not be allowed to pass on, for life is too presious to give up. Do not let allustions of concern and compassion drive you to believe that I am a saint, for I am not. I only speak of such matters reason being that my mind has also been infected with such thoughts, though I have not allowed them to take over my mind. Live life to the fullest, until you are ready. Some may be ready earlier, and they will not hesitate to die, and we are not ones to influence others. Allow them to die, and perhaps they will be reborn into a much more fitting life, allowing them to get the most out of it. New life is born as an old one dies.
~Farewell~

"~What am I leaving, when i'm done here?~"
~Leave Out All The Rest, by Linkin Park
Aoi Hikari Tenshi, The Blue Angel