growing up in a suicide house

I grew up in a high-rise building, in one of a group of three almost identical fifteen-floor buildings, all covered in blue and white tiles. It would have been nothing more than a place of people’s normal domestic lives if it hadn’t been for a certain notorious incident. The building I grew up in was called the suicide house. Actually, there was just one case a man used the building’s height to take his life, but this case was claimed to have triggered a chain reaction in the whole neighbourhood and indeed, hurling yourself off a high-rise building became for a while a somehow popular suicide method.

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