Just Fell

by Nakeysha Roberts Washington

It’s not true what they say, you know. When people slit their wrists, sometimes they do want to die.


Google search: How to tie a noose?

I had my mother buy me this pink chair to match my room for Christmas. I have been practicing since then.


This knot is used for the gallows-tree as well. The force to close it is adjusted better than with the gallows knot. And because it is bigger in the neck is believed to break the neck more easily. That would make it more merciful than the gallows-knot that kills by strangling.

The Hangman is also used as a knot to tie angles to fishing-line.
Start with a piece of string/rope about a meter (3 feet) is perfect!
Get one end and fold it into three’s (remember to have some rope left at the end).
Now with the string left at the end slowly wind it round the third (it should now look a bit like a hangman’s noose)
When you finished there should be a loop at both ends.
With the string which has been wound round the thirds, put it through the loop at the end.
Once it is through the loop, pull on the loop at the other end to tighten the loop
Now once the loop is fully tightened, it should be ready to be used (it should have one giant loop at one end and a piece of string at the other end).


I practiced exactly 68 times before I made my knot perfect. I locked my door. I had to lock my door because my little brother might come in and I do not want him to be sad. My mother… that two-cent bitch. She can see. I don’t care.


Google Search: Affixiation

Is it always asphyxiation when you can’t breathe? Shit, then I’ve been asphyxiated my entire life. One final time won’t matter. Really hope there’s no afterlife. I took a pic for my obits. I even made them . I left the file names in my letter. One is pink and green. I made that one a fun one for friends; I’m making duck lips in that one. The one for the grown ups has a serious face; I got the sunrise background for that one.
“Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?”


The noose tied to the ceiling fan. Dangling, an intricate composition of knots and rope. She climbs up. One foot placed on the chair at a time. She slips her brown face then neck through the deadly lasso. A momentary pause. A breath, perhaps, for courage. Playfully, one foot tests the empty space right before the seat of the pink chair. Determined, the other lifts, quickly kicks the chair back. She dangles. Eyes bulged asphyxiated…almost…dangles…swings feet. Closed eyes… reaches hand to neck…dangles…

Knocking on the door, “What’s that noise?” Pause, listening for an answer. Turning the knob left, right. A minute passes, bang on the door.
“Open this door!”

“Nothing, mom. Just fell.” Ceiling fan disembodied.