[ WP ] Suicidal person realizes he can not die

It was all my fault, I killed her. I killed the woman I loved. Now she's dead and its all my fault. I ca n't go on. The weight in my chest, the emptiness is dragging me down. I should n't have gotten in the car. I knew I should n't have done it. Now she's dead and I'm left unharmed. Not even a FUCKING SCRATCH TO EVEN MAKE UP FOR WHAT I DID. 
 
 `` I have to do this. I have to do this. I have to do this.'' I repeat over and over under my breath. 
 
 I step onto the chair, and put the rope around my neck. I tighten the knot. This is how I die. I do n't deserve this. I deserve worse. She meant everything to me and now I killed her. I look out the window one final time, with bleary eyes I see the place where I crashed the car. I was almost home. I could n't see straight then, and as I remember her final moments my vision blurs with tears. My face is soaked from the tears. 
 
 I forgot a note. Well it is too late now. I kick the back of the chair over and I can feel the rope press into my neck. I ca n't breathe. My vision goes black. It feels painful, the rope constricting my throat. I feels like my windpipe broke. 
 
 Oh god it hurts. Why am I not dead? Is this what hanging yourself feels like? Should n't I be dead? AM I dead? If I am I guess this is hell. I deserve it. 
 
 My thoughts finally blur. YES! This is it! I can die! I fade out of conscientiousness. 
 
 I am awoken by a falling feeling. My body hits the floor. I can still feel the rope on my neck as my eyes fly open. I hear a woman scream. My vision is still blurry as I see a vague feminine silhouette jerk away from me. I try to say her name, call out to her. I can feel hope within me to see her again. Apologize for her death, but I ca n't. My throat is still in excruciating pain but I can breathe. My chest rises and falls, wheezing as air flows through my broken windpipe. I hear the woman panicked call to another person. It is not her, not my love. Despair fills my very soul, crushing my new found hope of seeing Jessica again. My throat is feeling better somehow. Air flows through my windpipe with ease now. My vision clears. People stand at the doorway to my room watching me. I sit up and I hear more screams and hear the sounds of people falling over. 
 
 I look out the mirror: it is morning, completely different than the nightime scenery that I last looked out over. 
 
 `` Are you okay?'' I hear a deep voice say from the doorway. 
 
 I look over. A bald black man is standing in the doorway. He stares at me and I stare at him. He is dressed in a police uniform with those light blue gloves on his hands. How do I respond to that question. Physically I feel just like I did before I hung myself. Mentally I do n't know. Am I even alive? Is this the afterlife? 
 
 `` I-I-I-I-'' I stammer. 
 
 The man steps into the room. He knelt down in front of me and put one hand on my shoulder. `` I know how you feel right now. I tried to do the same thing several years ago. Well, maybe not the exact same, but I tried to kill myself.'' He said with his deep, soothing, and flowing voice. `` I do n't know why it happens, but sometimes, people just do n't die. Maybe we will never die, perhaps that is punishment for what we have done wrong.'' His eyes glistened and I knew he was remembering what he had done. `` I can introduce you to others like us, people who just would n't die. I can figure something out to explain to the police and doctors, but you have to figure out what makes life worth living. The rest of your life is a second chance. You may not get another, or there may be no end to this one. Just remember to never give up hope of a better day, and find a way to live and move on from what happened. Some people do n't get a chance to do this, most regret what they did just before they die and you get to live, live in their place, remember that what happened is terrible, but there is always hope.''
