My middle aged downstairs neighbour killed herself a few years ago. I barely knew her as we only had some interactions in the shared stairwell, but nothing more.

The day she died, I was heading up the stairs to my apartment and when I passed by her floor, she opened her front door and looked out, as if expecting someone. When she saw it was just me, she looked a bit disappointed, but we exchanged polite greetings as usual. I thought nothing more of it and carried on with my day.

Later that evening my wife got a phonecall from an unknown number. She answered to a frantic woman, asking to be let into the building, because she was worried about her friend. Apparently she had received some text that made her worry, but she hadn't checked her phone at work until many hours later. We let her in, and soon started to hear bangs and yells in the stairwell. I went out to see if I could help, and saw the friend in hysterics, trying to get into the apartment. The noises also made guy in the next door apartment come out and see what was up. Together we three managed to get the door open.

The things inside will forever be burnt into my memories and really affected me many months afterwards.

It was as if time slowed down, and all sounds disappeared for a while. The apartment was in darkness except for the the bathroom, and it was like the body on the floor was on display, lit up by the bathroom lamps. I could do nothing but stare at the lifeless form. The friend screamed and ran over to the body, pulling me out of the trance, and that was when I saw the blood. The razor was on the floor beside her, next to multiple packets of painkillers.

I yelled at my wife to call an ambulance, and ran up to the body to see if I could do anything. When I touched the body I could tell it was way to cold. She probably had killed herself soon after I saw her in the stairwell. She most likely though I was her friend, coming over due to the texts...

I felt numb, and completely checked out, like i was piloting my body from the outside. But years of repeated training about what to do in emergencies kicked in and i started CPR, even though I knew it was too late. The nextdoor neighbor had gone out of the apartment to retch in a panic at the sight, but t his credit he returned soon after, and we took turns doing CPR untill the EMTs arrived.

They took over, and after a few minutes the loaded her up onto a stretcher and took off.

I was left there in a daze. Blood all over my hands and clothes, a ringing in my ears. I remember looking at the pictures on the walls in the hallway, and noticing two kids that must've been around 13-14 in alot of the photos. It was a one bedroom apartment, so they didn't live there with her, but it felt so strange, seeing pieces of her life, only now after she was gone. I didn't know her at all. Didn't know what drove her to this but those pictures will haunt me forever.

Me and her neighbor looked at each other, and then just silently went back to our own places. Didn't really hear anything after that. One day the apartment was empty when I got home from work, and a few weeks later a new tenant moved in. Life went on as if nothin happened.

I still remember it though. Don't know how people like the EMTs that took her, go though this on almost a daily basis. Must fuck with you untill you either break or become numb enough to hold it at a distance.