Suicide note

Compared to the five floors below, the sixth floor seemed eerily out of place, defying all logic.

It was too clean, like someone had deliberately wiped it down to erase any traces or clues. Ethan glanced twice at the stairs leading to the sixth-floor balcony, bent down, and gently wiped his hand across them. He noticed a thin layer of dust on his fingertips and said, "Just a light wipe on these stairs, and you can see a layer of dust."

"This building's been abandoned for three years, so dust can drift in from anywhere. It doesn't take long after cleaning for the dust to settle again."

"Judging by the amount of dust on these stairs..."

"Someone must have cleaned up their footprints last night, around the time the victim fell."

"We can be sure of that..."

"Besides the victim, someone else came up here to the rooftop."

Ethan's technique of using the dust to estimate the timing earned him a nod of approval from Lucas.

"Not bad, Ethan."

"Didn't think you'd get a useful lead from the dust on these stairs."

"Now, we can only hope there are still some clues left on the balcony that haven't been destroyed, to further uncover the truth."

The two continued forward, carefully confirming that the stairs were impeccably clean with no clues left behind, and slowly made their way to the rooftop.

...

Reaching the rooftop, Lucas sighed heavily, a mix of emotions in his voice, "Such a shame."

"They were just kids."

Ethan pursed his lips, remaining silent, but he understood clearly...

Lucas was lamenting the death of the female student, a kid with a bright future who chose to leave the world in such a way.

Because, in front of them, there were no signs of a struggle, no dried blood, nor a chaotic, horrifying scene.

Just a neatly laid Winnie the Pooh tablecloth, the surrounding area unusually clean of dust.

On the tablecloth, there were two bottles of chocolate milk with straws, several empty bags of fries and chips, a small lamp probably used for reading late at night, and a pale pink envelope in the center.

One could imagine.

Last night.

The victim spent her final moments here on this tablecloth with another unknown witness.

They might have talked about celebrities, past memories, unconfessed crushes, or dreams that would never be realized.

Talking until the snacks were gone, the drinks finished.

And then chose...

To leap from the abandoned school building in a posture of enjoyment.

...

It could be said.

This scene before them overturned Lucas's earlier theory that the victim was forced by someone to jump to her death.

Because if it were a situation of coercion.

You wouldn't see the rooftop as it was now—neat, clean, and serene. If it weren't for the fact that the victim's body was still downstairs, you might almost think...

This was like a middle school girl's secret tea party.

Lucas first snapped a photo of the scene to preserve any potential evidence before they started moving things around.

Then he slowly approached, picked up the pink envelope from the center of the tablecloth, glanced at it, and handed it to Ethan, saying, "Ethan, take a look at this."

"The envelope even says, 'Please give this to the police.'"

"Why..."

"Why would such a good kid choose to end it this way?"

Clearly, seeing the cozy setup on the rooftop, Lucas was pretty sure this wasn't a murder case but more likely a suicide.

But even if it was suicide, the wounds on the victim's wrists, which clearly occurred post-fall, still needed a reasonable explanation.

Ethan was also surprised, puzzled by the scene on the rooftop.

However, the victim's face-up falling posture had always seemed off to him, so he was somewhat prepared for oddities.

Now, Ethan looked at the pink envelope in his hand and signaled to Lucas, "Lucas."

"Should I open this up and check it out?"

"I've got a feeling there's more to this case, hoping this letter might shed some light."

Lucas waved his hand, signaling Ethan to go ahead and open it.

Meanwhile, he crouched down to carefully examine the straws in the chocolate milk and the edges of the chip bags, hoping to find DNA traces of another person.

Now, understanding the specifics of this case and finding the person who had been chatting with the victim here was crucial.

Ethan focused entirely on the envelope, slowly opening it, and a neat, pretty handwriting came into view.

[Sorry, Officer, did I cause you trouble? I'm really sorry, I hope it hasn't been too much trouble.]

[By the way, Officer, you don't need to waste time looking for a murderer. This was my own decision, it has nothing to do with anyone else, and no one forced me to do this.]

[Why did I decide to do this? I feel like the world wouldn't be any different without me, some people are just surplus burdens, right? And I'm just so tired, really... really tired!]

[So I wanted to be completely relaxed, never having to worry about waking up again.]

[I once heard a saying, when a person disappears from others' memories, it means they're truly gone from this world. Some people will always be remembered, some might disappear after a hundred years, and some might vanish in just a decade or so.]

[Well, in my case, I guess I'll only make people sad for a few months, and within a few years, I'll be forgotten by everyone and disappear from this world.]

[If there's a next life, I hope to become a blue whale in the ocean because they are big enough, strong enough, free enough, and precious enough to be noticed at a glance.]

[I've said too much, anyway, this was my own decision, Officer, no need to investigate further.]

[Wait, let me curse one last time...]

[To hell with this crappy world, I don't want to come back in the next life!!!]

...