Aokigahara Forest — Attraction in Fujikawaguchiko

Is there a specific place to commit suicide again? If I say so, then it must take some confusion. But yes, Japan has a jungle, which is called "Sui'Side Forest".

The most mysterious territory part of Japan. The whole area full of curly and wrapped trees !! The light is dark inside the forest. Anyone will swarm their body when they go. The faith of the local people is called the free walking land of the land. Local people believe that all the horrible ghosts here turn around. Unfortunately the place is the second largest "self-murder place" in the world.

So far more than 500 people here have "suicide". The government record says five hundred but the number of "self-killing" people may be much more. Because the government has now stopped accounting for suicide here.

The forest is the most popular place for the Japanese 'self-murder' and is second in the whole world. In accounting, there are an average of 100 people "suicide" per year.

Only in 2002 6 dead bodies were recovered from here in 1998 rescued more than 74 people were rescued. The suicide rate around 2003 became more than 100 and since then the Japanese government has stopped expressing the suicide rate of suicide. In 2004, 108 people committed suicide here. In 2010, 247 people tried to commit suicide, of which 54 dead were rescued alive.

Most of those who have committed suicide have committed suicide with expulsion or more drugs. Basically the lonely people who lost in the battle of life commit more suicide here.

The soil of this forest is formed by the primary volcanic. It is very difficult to make the soil under the forest with different equipment made such as rubs, straw, etc. There are some medications built by local volunteers in the forest that are only used to collect bodies regularly or...

I visited this place last month and have been thinking about it a lot ever since. Like many others have said, it is a beautiful forest but has an unsettling feel to it. I did a lot of research before going and was conflicted about walking there. I went with one other person during the day on the main trail loop near the ice cave. It was peaceful and eerily quiet. I kept waiting to “see” something. But honestly, it was totally fine and probably just my anxiety, until we reached the fenced off “do not enter” area (I didn’t take a picture because everything stopped and I got scared). I consider myself agnostic spiritually, and basically as soon as my travel partner and I saw this fence, I swear the entire forest got darker and there was a huge gust of wind. My heart was beating very fast. We then saw this bizarre, big butterfly suddenly fly near us that seemed to be very distressed and kept hitting against a tree leaf. We stepped over the fence for a brief time, took a few steps, and then immediately returned because it felt like something was very very wrong and dangerous. After this experience, which even my partner who doesn’t know the history of this place like I do agreed was unsettling, I believe that the spirits of those lives lost do roam here. I left feeling very sad and overwhelmed. Knowing you’re walking on the path that people walked on for the last time is a creepy feeling that cannot be recreated unless you go. May those who breathed their last breath there...

Here… I don’t even know if my next step will be my last. I’m knee-deep in damp, sucking mud, surrounded by a suffocating wall of forest. The air is thick with the stench of rotting leaves and wet earth, heavy enough to make my lungs feel like they’re sticking together.

Just minutes ago, I saw a massive, steam-breathing shadow through the bushes… a bear. Its eyes locked on mine like it was deciding how long I’d stand before it struck. I hurled a loose rock at it with the last of my strength and somehow ran— thorns tearing into my legs, leaving warm, sticky trails of blood.

The deep northeast and southwest sections here… they’re a maze. I’ve lost all sense of time. The paths keep repeating themselves, each turn leading me back into the same suffocating green walls. My compass is useless—the needle spins wildly, thrown off by the iron in these old lava rocks.

I’ve only a few sips of water left. My lips are cracked and bleeding from the dryness. From somewhere in the undergrowth, I keep hearing something slither over dead leaves… then silence. There are snakes here—some so big, the sound of their movement chills my spine.

No signs. No markers. No trace of another human. Only the cold, crushing quiet, and sometimes, the hollow echo of my own heartbeat bouncing back from...