user/Kerb
3d ago
Not proud of this, obviously. Back in college my roommate confessed to me he was thinking of killing himself. He told me all these reasons — failing classes, no friends back home, felt like he was worthless. I sat there and told him it’d get better, gave him the usual speech. But the truth is… I was so tired of his drama. For weeks it was always about how he was gonna end it. And that night I just said, “Do what you gotta do, man. I can’t keep doing this.” He did it three days later. Hung himself in the dorm bathroom. I never told anyone what I said. His parents hugged me at the funeral. I still get nightmares.
14
user/Sheikh
2d ago
When I was 16, I had this friend, let’s call him Sam. We weren’t super close, more like those friends who hang out because they’re in the same group, but I always thought he was a bit... off. He had these sudden bursts of anger, really dark humor that made people uncomfortable, and he’d sometimes just stare at people for way too long. Anyway, one night we were hanging out in this abandoned construction site near our neighborhood — this was our dumb idea of fun back then, climbing around, breaking shit, being edgy teens. I remember Sam picked up this small bird, I think it had a broken wing, and started just... playing with it. Like, tossing it gently in the air, laughing at how it couldn’t fly. Then he snapped its neck. Just like that. No hesitation, no remorse. I still remember the sound. I froze. I didn’t know what to do. He laughed and said, “Relax, it was gonna die anyway. I did it a favor.” But I couldn’t look at him the same after that. Later that week, I found his Instagram account where he posted drawings — really violent, disturbing shit. And captions like “someday I’ll stop imagining and start doing.” That line stuck with me. Here’s where the “darkest thing” part comes in. I wrote an anonymous tip to our school counselor. I didn’t say who I was, I just wrote that Sam might be dangerous, that he was killing animals and posting violent stuff online. A few weeks later, Sam stopped coming to school. I heard his parents sent him to some kind of inpatient psych facility. No one ever found out it was me. Our group just kinda moved on, barely mentioned him again. Sometimes I wonder if I overreacted. If maybe he was just a weird, edgy kid going through shit. Or maybe I actually stopped something worse from happening. I’ll never know. But sometimes I still feel guilty. Like I destroyed his life for a bird. Like I played God. That’s the darkest thing I’ve done. And I still don’t know if I did the right thing.
9