I think my son is going to kill himself.
I love my son, but I think he's in a bad way right now. He sits in his room all day and night, and at fifteen, you'd think he'd be trying... something.
I really don't care what he does: football, drama, art, ballet. I just want him to be happy. He just doesn't have that drive for life like a teenager should.
He recently told my wife that he hated her. He screamed it to her face after they argued over his grades. He's been slipping in school. He was a straight A student, now down to D's. I held her for hours after that.
What happened to that happy little boy? What happened to my son? Why won't he let me in? I know I can help him.
God, my poor boy. He has been bullied too, for the way he dresses and acts. He's in his "dark and brooding" phase, but I hate that he takes it so seriously. I mean, I was into heavy metal and scared the crap out of my parents as well, but I never felt suicidal.
We knew he was in trouble after the first bad self-harm incident. He had apparently been cutting himself over the course of the past year and we caught him in the act recently.
The fight, my God the fight.
We brought him to a psychiatrist and the school therapist, but that only made him shut us out more. He just doesn't want help. I wish to God, how I wish, that I could've known what caused all this.
According to the psychiatrist, he has no reason to be as troubled as he is. They have found no root event in his childhood, they have found no chemical imbalance, they've found... nothing.
The darkness in his eyes now. God, the darkness. I made eye contact for the first time in months it felt, and it was like looking into the eyes of a shark.
He is cold. Cold to us, cold to his friends, cold to everyone.
I asked his friends about him and they feel the same as we do. They are worried. He has alienated himself and lashed out countlessly at his fellow peers. He has gotten beaten up by strangers and friends alike. I now wish we would have taken him out of school.
He hates everyone and everything. He doesn't even do the normal actions of someone depressed. He eats his meals, he doesn't listen to dark music (or any music really), and his porn history is surprisingly clean.
Just... I am at a loss.
Today, while he was at school, I searched his room. I found knives, ropes, and my old pistol from the safe. There were even drugs just sitting in plain sight.
I confiscated the items and kept looking.
Looking for... something.
I gave up and returned to work. That night, when I returned home, it was like a nuke went off.
He screamed himself hoarse at us. We took his drugs and weapons, and he felt like the victim. The fight resolved with him slamming his door, while I was mid-sentence.
Today, I looked again. I found a suicide note. Two, actually. The first was a rough draft, but was thrown away.
The second though, was horrid. It contained allegations of sexual and physical abuse. It chronicled years of torture and alcoholism. It was so well written, almost as if by an adult. It ended with a vague apology in regards to the two lives he ruined.
However, the letter wasn't written by a victim, nor was the rough draft. It was written by a planning murderer who was to kill himself and family. The rough draft was claimed to be written by my wife. The final letter's author claimed to be... me.
I think my son is going to kill himself.
But not before he kills my wife and I.
Credited to SamMarduk