James Ward was very short. James Ward was very strange. He often used to mumble obscenities during lessons, or storm out of classrooms arguing with himself.

When he failed to get a mark he thought respectable in spelling, he committed suicide.

He did this by standing on the bottom step in the playground, and announcing in a loud voice: "I hate you all, and I'm going to die." He then plummeted the eight or so inches to the asphalt below, and lay motionless.

He remained motionless for the rest of break, no matter how many people kicked him or stole things from his pockets, because, you see, he was dead. At least until break-time ended.

With the surname Choo it was inevitable that I would find myself the target of bullying. My father had weathered years of similar abuse - such is the burden of the Choos - and wasn't about to lift a finger to help. If anything, he hoped that the relentless abuse would toughen me up.

Desperate for a sympathetic male role model, I looked to French teacher Gordon Bennett for moral support. Surely he too had been the victim of cruel jokes based on his name?

I informed Mr Bennett that my classmates had been "taking the Michael" out of my name. Ever the wit, Mr Bennett was quick to point out that as my first name was indeed Michael, this was a touch ironic, and even funny.

Feeling completely and utterly betrayed by both my peers and my elders, I attempted then and there to slit my wrists using the sharpest implement at my disposal, which happened to be the blade of my pencil sharpener.

For the rest of my school life the moniker "Chooicide" was my shadow.

At school camp one year, Sarah Thorpe decided that nobody was paying enough attention to her and that the only way to rectify this was to slit her wrists.
By rubbing them on a blunt stick she found in the river.
When we reacted by laughing at her and pointing out that you were supposed to cut along the vein and not across, she went to one of the teachers whilst jabbing her wrist with the stick and said "Look Mr. Henderson, I'm killing myself!"
Rather than call the paramedics, she was simply sent home for "being silly".

Cunteye had many reasons to be suicidal. Having made numerous and precocious advances on every male in the school, and and beared the beatings that followed, he also managed to be a spotty ginger hulk, with eyes that looked for all the world like a pair of cunts. Hence, Cunteye. Even his dad called him Cunteye, which may have fuelled the suicides - who knows?
Regular failed suicide attempts included the classics; a drug overdose failed becuase "I don't want to wake up feeling ill". Hanging himself with a length of elastic rope ended wth a case of mild concussion, and he chose to kill himself on the railway tracks on a trainless Sunday.
He outdid himself, however, when he tried to end it all by jumping from the top of the stairs, trying to land head-first onto a nail. Woodwork classes for Cunteye were to become a weekly ordeal.
Cunteye remains alive to this day.

One girl decided to end it all by taking 5 Lemsips, which I believe was Kurt Cobain's second choice after the rifle.
It turned out that rather than just downing the powder (which would have been comical enough), she boiled a kettle, waited, stirred them into a cup and sipped away.
She survived, you'll be glad to know. She also remained cold-free all winter.

Laura attempted to end it all by hanging herself using the classroom window-blind cords.
The result? She hit the floor as the blinds went up.

Dave P also used venetian blinds, but tried the more direct approach by sticking his head through the slats at the top and then kicking the chair away. His theory was that he would either hang or be neatly decapitated.
What actually happened was that the fixings gave way and we were all treated to a 5 minute eppy while he tried to disentangle himself from the blinds on the floor which is apparently very difficult, particularly whilst being repeatedly kicked by 'concerned' classmates.