The Death Letters Project was started as an artistic expression of the wondrous nature of life and experience, and to help along the stages of grief.
The goal of the project is to collect death letters - letters we would write over a death of a loved one, or the impending journey onward of someone terminal including ourselves.
This is a community for you to express yourself.
Read a letter. Write a letter.
This is a place to celebrate life. If you are depressed and are thinking of committing suicide, please Click Here - You are a wonderful person, believe in yourself. Pain shall pass, life is beautiful, and it always goes on.
On the day you were born I knew you would be different than your sisters. You looked at me with your eyes fully focused on mine, as if you were trying to tell me something. All I wanted to do was to hug you and hold you because you seemed so lonely and distant. You’ve never cried for attention, which made me yearn for yours even more. I desperately needed you to accept me. You were something special since the very beginning.
When you started walking and showing more signs of independence, I steadily grew more concerned about your attachment to me. You seemed happier without any company at all and I wanted to be with you all the time. You smiled to me, you held my hand, and you giggled when I tickled you, but your laugh was distant and I barely felt your grip. I missed you even when I held you in my arms.
Then you grew into beautiful teenager, you went to school and found new friends and I never mattered anymore; if I ever did at all. You treated our home more like a hotel; you showered and slept in it, but your chair at the dinner table was always empty. Every time I approached you, you immediately found a hundred different things to do and you would refuse to talk. You made me feel like I failed, like I did not deserve to be your mother. And I’ve tried to fix whatever was broken every day. You have never allowed me into your world.
I knew things were going really bad with you the last couple of months. I cried myself to sleep every night, going out of my mind to figure out a way to help you. I started getting phone calls from your school that you didn’t show up and I lied that you were sick yet again to keep you out of trouble. I discovered your bed empty a few nights and I was too afraid to confront you because I didn’t want to cause another argument. That was the only way of communication between us and nothing hurt me more than seeing you being upset.
My heart stopped when your father called me to tell me he found you unresponsive on the bathroom floor. As I was approaching the hospital I was terrified to find out what was waiting for me there. I was never so scared in my life. I dialed your father’s number 5 times but I was too afraid to talk. How did I ever let things go so out of control? You are my baby and I failed to take care of you.
The doctors told me it would take a miracle to bring you back to life. It would take a lifetime for me to recover. I love you more than life, my darling. I am so sorry for everything I did wrong. All I want is for you to come back. Don’t leave, sweetheart. Stay with me.
Dear Mr. Douglas,
Did you ever know you were my favorite teacher? Probably not. I never got up the nerve to tell you. But honestly, you shaped who I am as a person probably more than anyone else in my life except for maybe my mom. I know we didn’t always see eye to eye, but your advice was something I always sought out. I was always looking for your approval above everyone else. I promise to dedicate my first book to you.
I’ve never really lost anyone before. All my grandparents and parents are still alive. In fact, it was my mom who told me what you’d done. It seems crazy too because I just emailed you maybe a month ago. I wonder if I had stopped into your class and talked to you instead of an impersonal email, if it would have changed your decision somehow. Probably not. I mean, you had a wife and three-year-old kid at home. If they couldn’t stop you from taking your own life, how could I?
I still think of you often. I have most of the stories and papers that I wrote for you and your notes and characterization and tone and I mull them over all the time. If nothing else I wanted to make you proud of me. Not just as a student, but as a writer. I wanted to be able to walk into your classroom someday and drop a shiny new paperback book on the table with my name on the cover. I wanted you to know you impacted so many lives, mine not the least of them. I’m sorry you’re gone. I’m sorry you left a family behind. I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye.
You are missed Mr. Douglas,
In this state of confusion, I can’t exactly recall when I saw you, but all know it was a good experience for both of us. I can’t recall the last time I saw your bright face and smiled. In fact, I can’t remember any good times we shared as brother and sister except for one. So I strongly believe that since you’ve passed and will never come back to us, I owe you that much…to recall my one sweet memory of you.
I think, I was about 7 or 8, which would have undoubtedly made you 21 or 22. I think by then you were still living at our home with mum and “dad”. I clearly recall that dad was on his perpetual “business trip.” I remember you were looking at me with aunty Monty’s daughter Leona. On mom’s bed, we played mad libs, and we laughed and laughed and laughed…
In my mind, I still have memories of 1999; when I saw you last. In real sense, I didn’t see you in a conversational sense. On mom’s porch you were seated with your 6 children. After being evicted from yet another place, by the animal of a husband you married. By then I was in grad school and mom told me not to let you in, because you would not leave.
So I ignored you, drove up the driveway and parked mom’s car behind the water tank and went inside the back door. Up to to this day, I don’t know why I didn’t turn any lights. Perhaps not to give you a signal that I was inside and you were outside. Regardless, I called the police to help remove you and your children removed from our compound.
That was the last time I saw you in person, and little did I know that the police would only present note you left on the door:
“Dear Mark, I saw you enter the house from the backdoor. Just letting you know that I never came to bother you and mom, but rather spend the last breath at a place I once knew as home, and leave my 6 children where there mom was denied entry. I am sure that when you have children of your own you will know why I did this.”
I have spent my whole live trying to be the opposite of you, but I must say I now understand why you took your life. My reaction towards you on that day is haunting you are haunting me.
Here’s to you again dead sister…
The news has spread around school like wildfire that you shot yourself this morning. We, your friends and classmates, are shocked beyond belief. Why would you take your life at an age when the future holds such promise? Our lives are a series of phases; just because one has given you disappointment and grief does not mean the others must be so. I am hurt and saddened that you couldn’t or wouldn’t confide in someone your reasons for why you felt that must take such a drastic and irrevocable step.
Speaking for my own point of view, I remember how badly I felt for you in ninth grade when you ran for student government and you came in last place. There were five offices open and six candidates; top vote-getter became class president and fifth-place was Sergeant-at-Arms. I know you felt rejected and thought the election was a measure of your personal popularity. I now wish I could explain politics and voting blocs to you, as I don’t think you campaigned and horse-traded as the others did. Also, I know that you wanted a boyfriend or at least to date, and that you wanted me to ask you out. You have stricken me with this guilt and it is so unfair. We grew up in the same neighborhood – I’ve known you since third grade – and I would never have thought of you that way. I would ride bicycles with you and push you on the merry-go-round at recess with you at elementary school.
I feel like you did this violent act out of selfishness – if you don’t get what you want, well, I’ll show them! I only just turned sixteen and my driver’s license. I’ve never asked a girl for a date and I’ve never really kissed anyone. I have my doubts about myself like anyone else but I could never imagine killing myself. I have to trust that I will gain in maturity and wisdom as I age, something that you have now prevented yourself from doing.
Someone once said that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. If you were in chronic pain or had a terminal disease, well, I could better accept your death. What you have done is so senseless, so stupid and so inconsiderate of your friends and family. I heard your mother found your body in the bathroom last night when she got home from work and became so hysterical she had to be hospitalized. I hope your soul can linger in this realm long enough for you to know what a horrible and uncorrectable mistake you have made.