What Is The Story Of Christmas Eve's Death And Suicide-Personal Narrative

It all began yesterday with the discovery of a male body in the park at 6pm. It was Christmas Eve and I was about to go home when I was informed of the incident. I went to the scene with two other officers but I was extremely eager to get back to my family.

As I walked through the park, snow started to fall and all I could think about was the poor family of the man, unaware of his death. I started to think about my own family, my children waiting for me to come home so that they kiss me good night before Santa came.

When I got to the scene I looked at the man. His face was blank but it was a face I knew. This man was someone I had known for many years and the sight of his lifeless body sent shivers down my

I was certainly going to find out.

A wave of sadness washed over me as I thought about how he had missed Christmas day with his children. I immediately suspected murder; disgust and hatred filled every part of my body. Although as I looked more closely I realised that my quick assumption was indeed wrong. Suicide, it was obvious now. Everything about him said it. The photo of his family in his hand, the ring marks on his finger and the diary with the rest of the year missing. He knew he wouldn’t be here because he knew that he was defiantly going to die. He had taken his own life, taken it away from himself but also from his loved one’s.

It’s depressing, death. Hidden away from the public but always there staring at me. I wanted to be at home away from work and with my family at this, supposedly happy time of year, but I knew that my work here was not done.

I stood there staring at my old friend, knowing that if it was suicide I needed to find some sort of evidence. As I reached into his pocket and pulled out his possessions I felt as if I was trespassing on his memory. Snow was falling gently around us and fell softly onto