Stages of Silence

People say there are many stages of suicide. First, you sit on a chair, blade or rope in hand, thinking— maybe this is good. You start to wonder, are my decisions good? Is this okay? You're screaming but no sound leaves your mouth. A silent scream echoes louder than any voice. You still have time— to laugh with your family, hug a friend, watch your cat sleep. To breathe in one more sunset. But the monster in your head, it argues louder: "Yes. This is the best decision." "Just jump off." "Just hang." "Just slice your throat with the blade." Then, your mind begins to replay every little memory— not the big ones, the small, quiet moments: your favorite song in a silent room, the way a cat curled beside you once, a friend who made you laugh until you cried. And even if you’re alone— those memories come like waves. But so does death. You close your eyes. One, two, three— and the world turns black. That’s when the sirens come. That’s when your mother screams. That’s when people say, "I wish I could’ve saved her." But maybe it’s too late. You’re not there. You’re gone. And maybe, just maybe, this was the only decision that made sense in that moment