Today it’s too heavy pencil to write. The incident of autuicide in Heliopolis is, without exaggeration, one of the most shocking things I’ve ever read.
And not just in the way. Mostly for the silence that preceded it. For the invisible weight carried by two children just 17 years old. I dare not even imagine what they must have felt to get to the point of planning their end together. Because this was not a spur of the moment impulse. It was a cry of pain that no one heard in time.
The most shocking thing is that they fell hand in hand. Two children who, in their utter darkness, held each other until the last second. And that image shatters every human being who can still feel.
We keep talking about achievements, grades, graduations, goals, future. But we forget that behind the numbers are souls. Children exhausted, scared, pressured to prove their worth. Children who are afraid to fail, who feel like they don’t fit in anywhere if they aren’t “enough”. And depression doesn’t always show. It hides behind smiles, jokes, ordinary conversations.
No child leaves this life because “they wanted to die”. They leave because at some point they believed there was no other way to stop hurting.
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