Not Nearly As Macabre As It Sounds

"Out there, the man who killed your family is, I believe, still looking for you, still intends to kill you."

Bod shrugged. "So?" he said. "It's only death. I mean, all of my best friends are dead."

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Another good one from Neil Gaiman. The Graveyard Book. Written for kids, but enjoyable by anyone. About a toddler in need who wanders into a graveyard and is adopted by the ghosts there. With a vampire as his guardian to provide for his corporeal needs. Called "Bod," short for "Nobody," since they don't know any other name for him.

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"And there are always people who find their lives have become so unsupportable they believe the best thing they could do would be to hasten their transition to another plane of existence."

"They kill themselves, you mean?" said Bod. He was about eight years old, wide-eyed and inquisitive, and he was not stupid.

"Indeed."

"Does it work? Are they happier dead?"

"Sometimes. Mostly, no. It's like the people who believe they'll be happy if they go and live somewhere else, but who learn it doesn't work that way. Wherever you go, you take yourself with you."

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She wore a plain white shift. Her hair was mousy and long, and there was something of the goblin in her face--a sideways hint of a smile that seemed to linger, no matter what the rest of her face was doing. . . .

The girl fixed him with her beady ghost-eyes and smiled a lopsided smile. She still looked like a goblin, but now she looked like a pretty goblin, and Bod didn't think she would have needed magic to attract Solomon Porritt, not with a smile like that.