A powerful piece written by Matthew D Eayre
I saw him.
He held a razor to his wrist, tears streaming freely down his cheeks.
He kept whispering, “Just do it. Just do it. Just do it.”
I saw him, trying to convince himself to cut his life off, and I had no idea how to stop him, or if I should try.
When animals are suffering, we kill them, and call it humane. Wasn’t he an animal? Aren’t we all? How could I tell him to prolong his suffering?
What could I say which would be honest enough to be accepted, and change his mind about life?
He lowered the razor to his wrist, prepared to cut open his veins, vertically, so there wouldn’t be time to save him, if they found him before he died.
He had a plastic bag, spread open below him, trying to be considerate, not wanting to leave too big a mess, for…
View original post 962 more words