Aokigahara Jukai - The 'Suicide Forest'...

I ever explored the surrounding Aokigahara forest, and by ‘visit’ I mean I explored and almost got lost inside it. I doubt I will ever return to that forest again, it truly pricked every hair on my body and left me feeling cold and empty; the place undoubtedly has a disturbed or haunted aura. I went there because I am young and curious and thought ‘why not?’, I had read about it a year beforehand and was strangely fascinated by the place. A beautiful forest, where people choose to die… how strange I thought. It seemed to me the ultimate manifestation of yin and yang, life and death, contained in a place I never in my wildest dreams would imagine existing. However, I never told myself I would go there, I had no interest in seeing the place for myself, and was perfectly content just knowing about its existence. That is, until my friend Josh called me up last year and told me he had just booked a ticket to Japan, and that I should to. I bought the tickets that night, the tickets were cheap due to the tragic nuclear fallout, and I was always obsessed with Japanese culture, so it was a no brainer for me.

Aokigahara is a place where people come to end their lives. It is estimated that one hundred people die here each year. The ribbons are a precaution; if the person who is contemplating suicide changes their mind at the last moment, he or she will be able to find their way back to the world of the living once more. Ribbons are required because compasses simply don’t function in this place. Something about the iron concentration in the ground interferes with them though inevitably, such naturalistic explanation has been superseded by all types of supernatural ones; the forest is so spooky and still, it is hard not to infer the ghostly presence of all the souls that have perished here. Walking along the floor of the forest is a beautiful but eerie experience; you move in a perpetual twilight, a place which is forever on the verge of night. Every now and then, the shadows are interrupted by a flicker of color here and there a thin, bright ribbons trail and shimmer from one tree to the next. Follow one of these, and it might peter away into the stillness but then again, it could lead you further and deeper still, toward something else entirely, to one of the forms which are so regularly found in this place; a body hung slack and dangling from one of the skeletal branches above.

Aokigahara Forest, which is located at the foot of Mt Fuji in Japan, is one of those places that few wish to visit. Most people who do enter the 35 km2 forest never return due to its reputation for having the second highest suicide rate in the world (first place goes to San Fransisco’s Golden Gate Bridge). An average of 70-100 bodies are found there every year, and many are left undiscovered. The forest was created when Mt. Fuji – an active volcano – erupted 1,200 years ago and the trees emerged on top of the dried lava. The forest is known by many names, Aokigahara (青木ヶ原), Jukai (樹海) which translates in English as The Sea of Trees), Suicide Forest, the Cursed Forest, the Black Forest, and finally the locals I asked in Japan called it ‘NOOO, don’t go there!’ while they made the shape of an X with their arms. Sadly, the forest has long been associated with death and evil spirits (even before it became a popular place for suicide) as ubasute is believed to have been practiced in its woody depths, which is an old Japanese tradition where the elderly and sick are carried up a mountain or into a forest and left to die – sort of like the story of Hansel and Gretel, except with old people.


It was an odd and hauntingly beautiful forest to be lost in. The trees were growing on pure dark lava, their roots often stretching above the ground and wrapping around caverns, making it difficult to walk. The tree cover was so dense that G.P.S. devices sometimes didn’t function, and there were hundreds of long ropes tied to tree trunks. After all, there is reason the Aokigahara Forest, at the base of Mount Fuji, is called the “suicide forest.” Japan has more than 30,000 suicides a year — one of the highest rates among industrialized nations. On average, someone in Japan dies by his own hand every 15 minutes. Usually a man. The Aokigahara Forest is the most common place to commit suicide in Japan, and it is widely thought to be the second most likely site in the world, after the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco.




In 1960, Seicho Matsumoto wrote a popular novel called “Tower of Wave,” in which a couple commits suicide in Aokigahara Forest. These woods are described as the “perfect place to die” by the author Wataru Tsurumi in the book, “The Complete Manual of Suicide.” His best seller has been found next to many bodies in the woods, which is also known as the Yukai Forest, or Sea of Trees.

In addition, Mount Fuji is revered as a sacred site in Japan. Folk tales tell of ghosts and demons haunting the forest. There is also a long, romantic history of honorable suicide in Japan, from the Samurai avoiding disgrace to the kamikaze pilots of World War II. And suicide is less stigmatized in Japan than in many Western societies. I had entered the Aokigahara Forest wondering why so many Japanese travel there to commit suicide. I'd ever spent time for photographic shoot and wandering around the forest in summer of July 2012. For people committing suicide in Aokigahara forest most fit all three criteria. I imagine that someone who wanted to stop living would have died full of rage for the society that gave them so little. Also, many of the bodies are never found and sometimes even gobbled up by wild animals, in other words they’re not given the proper burial they deserve, and there’s no denying they all died unnaturally and violently.




Forest rangers, who are faced with the grueling task of searching the forest’s depths and retrieving bodies, have reported hearing high pitched screams and wailing in the otherwise eerily silent forest. It is also said that curses (black magic) have been put on the trees by some of those who have chosen to end their lives – maybe they wanted to leave behind a final ‘fuck you’ to the world they saw as their prison. Spiritualists believe that the trees themselves are filled with a dark energy from all the death and depression they have absorbed from the volcanic earth it sleeps on. Another factor is that the forest is located directly in front of Mt. Fuji, long-considered sacred in Japanese culture. But whether it was the novel, or the history, or the religious significance, or some combination of all of those that started Aokigahara’s history of death, its momentum is only getting more powerful. Some spiritualists say that the mass number of suicides committed there since the 60s has caused the forest to become tainted, and that sadness and evil now permeate the roots of the trees there. The Japanese government is of the opinion that people just need a little convincing to stop killing themselves there (and stop killing themselves in general, but, you know, baby steps). As a preventative measure, they’ve erected signs all along the walking trails, asking visitors to think about their lives before deciding to die.




So what’s made this place such a popular last thing to ever see? Well, it is nice looking. I mean, besides all the dead folks. Some say that it’s related to an extremely popular Japanese romance novel released in the 1960s, “Kuroi Jukai” (Lit. “The Black Sea of Trees”, a nickname for the forest), which ends with a couple visiting the forest to commit a joint suicide. The novel portrays the act as beautiful and romantic, for which some blame for the current reputation of the forest. And culturally, Japan has never had a major issue with suicide. It’s never been illegal, nor has it even been considered morally questionable for the most part, until recent times. I feel like I shouldn’t write about what I saw in the forest beyond this point, as I don’t like the idea of portraying this place to be some sort of ‘ringu’ amusement park, designed to satisfy our hunger for our most primal emotion: fear. But, as this is my journal, I feel I should describe what else happened on my journey.



I don’t have any desire to try and sensationalise my experience in Aokigahara, even though it may seem like it to some. In all honesty I thought the forest was strange and fascinating, and not just because of its dark history. Everything was mossy and ironically full of life, it was also very quiet – at times this was creepy, and at others it was very peaceful. The forest is full of paradox and contrast. It is also physically very different to most forests, it is almost alien. For example, a lot of the trees were rooted above ground and looked as though they would start walking at any minute, while holes and crevices littered the forest floor and allowed its deep underground some air to breathe. Finally, the locals don’t call it the Sea of Green for nothing; the forest was suspiciously green, but nevertheless it was very beautiful, especially when you consider the emotions (good and bad) it could evoke in you at any random moment. I was surprised, actually, to learn that the forest was located at the base of Mt. Fuji, considering the mountain is synonymous with Japan (everyone knows about it) and yet few know about Aokigahara.

My experience in the infamous Aokigahara forest. By the time I'd started back tracking in an attempt to escape from the forest it was about quarter past 4, the sun was starting to set and it was getting very dark due to the tall canopy of trees which Ian’t letting much light in to begin with. Considering I got there at about 11 20 am and finally left at about 5 pm, I was in that forest for almost 6 hours. I don’t have any plans to visit the forest again, but who knows what the future holds. If I do ever come back, it will be for journalistic reasons and I would want to film a documentary about it. I wouldn’t go back just to ‘see’ it again. The locals fear this place, and I now see why, it is truly a haunted area. If you are looking for the macabre, then you will probably find it in Aokigahara. If you want to see ghosts, then come between the hours of 2 and 3 am.