A few years ago, I was suicidal. Let me tell you firsthand, something pushes you to that point and once you're in it, it's tunnel-vision. All you think about, all you care about, all you do is plan your suicide, meticulously. You don't want to f--- it up, because then not only will you still be alive, you'll be crippled or disabled for life, you don't want to be caught (if it's not a cry for help, which is by means to be taken less seriously than a real attempt). For people in that state, it's not a matter of being weak or mentally unstable; it's a matter of being in pain and wanting it to end in the only way you can see possible. I tried three times to kill myself and no one even knew about it until the last time, and they wouldn't today if I hadn't admitted it and gotten help. You physically CANNOT break out of that state of mind without a serious amount of work and patience on the part of those around you, which I thankfully have so I can be here today, totally clear of those thoughts and even mostly winning my battle against depression. This girl died because she succeeded where I failed and failed where I succeeded; she didn't have a support web woven to break her fall, as I unknowingly had, and so she reached her goal. The children who pushed who to this point should be charged with everything they are being charged with, but I believe a more serious emphasis, for parents and teachers of depressed and hurt kids, on the role of the adults and friends in their life. If this girl had only had more people working to save her, she may still be here today.