Creative Writing: Someone Committed Suicide

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I remember it was Sunday, the sun fading in the horizon. People was carrying on their regular lives. People coming home from work and kids hanging out on the streets with their friends. I was laying lazily on the couch, having to just finish dinner. The summer breeze drifted in through the windows as I wonder what should I do the next day. Then the familiar high-pitched sound of a siren ring in my ears. Instantly, I knew something was wrong. Multiple police cars followed by an ambulance stopped in front of my apartment building. Immediately, policemen isolated the curious gathering crowd with bright yellow tape. People started coming out of their houses and stood on their porches, trying to figure what what's wrong. Paramedics carrying a stretcher entered the alley between my apartment building and a brown house. I looked out the window trying to see whatever that's going out there, and pieces of conversations carried on by policemen float upward …show more content…

Usually I read about suicides in books and watch characters mourn in movies because their loved ones killed themselves. Suicides are usually dark and scary. But little do I know I have the chance to acknowledge someone else's death, someone I've barely know about. I rushed onto the balcony in my parent's room before anyone can stop me. My siblings trailed behind me, also curious. I leaned over the cool railing and down to the crime scene. There was little blood. She laid awkwardly on top of a green car, and multiple paramedics struggling to get her down. "Look away, Anna! You're not suppose to see that," my sister quickly turned me around, trying to shield me from the gross scene. But I already saw everything. I recognized the victim. She lived on the fifth floor and she has three kids. She had always seemed crazy to me, murmuring to herself every time I walk past her in the stairways. But how can anyone just end their

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