Overview

Game link – CONTENT WARNING: SUICIDE; SEXUAL ABUSE; PARENTAL ABUSE; QUEER TRAUMA

If you or someone you love needs to talk, please dial 988; there you will find someone who can take your call.

—

“You’re settling at home after a long day at work. You receive a phone call from a stranger. They ask about a hotline. What do you do?”

How do you talk about suicide? Especially to a stranger. It’s a bit of a taboo subject, and still in the process of becoming normalized. Suicide hotlines help people in the middle of a crisis, with volunteers trained to provide callers with a safe and honest conversation about their options. Most people don’t have that training. This short, interactive fiction game is meant to spark conversation about the language we use around and about suicide.

History Versions of Game

Conception of Game Idea

I have always loved interactive fiction. Back in high school, I wrote an IF CYOA game using Google Docs. This was long before there were tabs, back when headings were still new. I’ve always wanted to try writing one again. I’m glad I could give it another shot in this class assignment.

One of my strengths is creative writing. And, one of my weaknesses is in how I usually try to write stories that are far beyond the scope of the assignment. To reduce the very likely scenario of going beyond scope, I brainstormed some game ideas focusing specifically on three criteria: (a) emotional resonance, (b) emphasis on player agency, and (c) temporal specificity. I considered shopping scenarios, changes in life circumstances, or life-and-death situations. I was searching for an experience that could afford player agency.

Eventually, I settled on a telephone conversation. I felt that writing about a phone call satisfied the three conditions I specified above—temporally bounded by the duration of the dialogue, contextually focused on a discrete moment, and rich with opportunities for meaningful player choice with consequential outcomes.

Through several discussions with my peers, I realized that the psychological impact of confronting death would be an ideal space to explore empathy. This lead me to consider suicide intervention as the central theme. While significant progress has been made in destigmatizing mental health discourse, conversations surrounding suicide remain largely taboo, requiring substantial trust and vulnerability to initiate. In the current sociopolitical climate, where public health programs are being defunded (1; 2; 3; 4; 5), I sought to create an experience where players encountered suicide disclosure for the first time in order to work towards a future where open and honest dialogue about suicide is possible.

Suicide prevention hotlines are, at the moment, one of the most accessible immediate intervention resources the US has (6). The crisis hotline has managed millions of calls since the official three-digit 988 code was implemented (7). Yet, this vital national service is under threat, at a time when people may need it most (8). I consulted established training protocols from the hotlines as I developed my game to inform the narrative design (9; 10; 11; 12). I wanted to make sure I treaded carefully, considering the subject material.

It is crucial to note that, given the player character’s lack of formal training and inexperience with such sensitive conversations, available choices do not consistently align with recommended intervention guidelines. This deliberate design decision aims to authentically represent the experience of navigating such situations without preparation. The intended discomfort serves a pedagogical purpose: by engaging with these emotions in a low-stakes simulated environment, I hope that this game reduces the stigma around discussing suicide and facilitates more open discourse about suicide.

Consideration of the 4 E’s of Interactive Fiction

The narrative structure of the game is enacted through player’s choosing dialogue options in a phone call conversation with a stranger experiencing a mental health crisis. It features multiple endings determined by player responses. Excessively callous approaches prevent successful connection with support services, while overly casual responses fail to maintain the caller on the line. In order to reach the final ending, players must choose options with the appropriate gravity, vulnerability, and authenticity.

The gameplay experience is grounded in the mundane action of answering a telephone call, turning an ordinary conversation into an evocative, emotionally charged situation. All player interactions occur through dialogue exchange with the caller. The narrative also emerges progressively as players make choices. Certain elements of the story can only be discovered by choosing the correct paths. 

Overall, the emotional weight, and pedagogical outcome, is embedded in the details of the story. Who is this stranger who calls you? Why are they so distressed? How can you support them in this dire moment? The answers to these questions can only be uncovered through playing the game and reading closely. 

Playtest 1

The first version of this game was developed using Google Docs, a platform that was selected in order to facilitate exploration of the narrative structure prior to implementing a digital version. This prototype consisted exclusively of player dialogue options and corresponding caller responses, with minimal use of dialogue tags (e.g., “They sobbed”; “They sniffled as they said”).

The initial playtest occurred with someone outside of the course. They are a white male in their twenties with preferences towards single-player narrative games, primarily on the Switch console. The limitations of Google Docs were immediately apparent during the first test. The necessity of navigating between document tabs disrupted player immersion and undermined the intended experience. Additionally, there wasn’t sufficient context regarding the characters in the game, which the player explained as a detachment from the impact of the choices they made. The playtester also reported a disconnect between available dialogue options and their intuitive responses to the situation. They recommended I use Workflowy to build the next version, a platform utilizing hierarchical bullet-point structures that could more effectively simulate branching narrative pathways.

Based on this feedback, I promptly transitioned to the Workflowy platform, adapting the existing content in preparation for subsequent playtesting sessions.

Playtest 2 

The second playtest took place in class with a female in her twenties, a classmate who indicated that while they usually do multiplayer games, she also appreciates narratively-driven experiences. This session on Workflowy revealed improvements in dialogue option quality, though I still needed to refine some of the word choice.

(Playtester 1, covered by Korok)

The playtester observed that the number of available choices was more than expected and also somewhat repetitive. When I asked if additional character contextualization would be beneficial, I was advised to maintain focus on the dialogue and the arc of the story, as I hadn’t yet finished writing any endings. The participant noted appreciation for the gradual reveal of some situational details through gameplay, indicating that player choices effectively facilitated emergent understanding of the narrative moment.

Despite these improvements, I recognized that there was still a lot of friction with Workflowy, and so I promptly transitioned the game to Twine. I drew significant inspiration from Queers in Love at the End of the World and sought to incorporate a timer mechanic to emphasize the urgency of making decisions before the caller disconnected.

I experimented extensively with Twine, creating numerous versions utilizing both the SugarCube and Harlowe story formats in an attempt to successfully integrate the timer functionality.

(Proof of many versions of the game)

Playtest 3 & 4 

For the third and fourth playtests, I implemented the timer mechanic to assess its impact on player experience. 

(Playtest 3)(Playtest 4)

The third playtester was a male in their early twenties with limited interactive fiction experience, though he expressed enjoyment of nonfiction reading, and with equal engagement with both single-player and multiplayer games. I selected this participant specifically because I wanted to ensure my game remained accessible to audiences unfamiliar with IF conventions. Given my tendency toward scope expansion, I also sought to verify that my writing maintained appropriate accessibility.

Feedback from these sessions indicated that while the timer contributed to a sense of urgency, players perceived that the primary driver of gameplay impact was the variety of choices available to the player at each choice point. One tester commented they felt uncomfortable at how direct some of the choices were—this response aligned with my design intentions, and I was pleased to hear this. Their comment sparked a conversation where we discussed strategies for navigating such conversations in reality, such as considering appropriate word choice, acceptable levels of directness when addressing the topic, and methods for connecting individuals with support services. It was gratifying to know that my game successfully inspired meaningful dialogue about the subject matter.

The fourth playtester suggested implementing a variable to track the developing relationship between player and caller. Under this framework, the degree of vulnerability demonstrated through player choices would be reciprocated through increased caller openness and backstory revelation. I considered the current mechanics of the game, limited to just choosing branches and the timer, and thought it would be worthwhile testing out the variable.

Playtest 5 & 6

(Playtest 5)

(Playtest 6)

The sixth playtester was an experienced gamer with an affinity for long-form narratives. I selected this participant for their capacity to provide substantive writing critique and identify specific opportunities for strengthening the narrative of the game. Following in-class exercises focused on character development, I had incorporated additional details about the caller character. I also completed several endings for the game. 

The sixth playtest demonstrated that players deeply valued this enhanced characterization. They noted that the characters felt more authentic and believable. They affirmed that expanding player choice options was beneficial, provided those options aligned with plausible player responses. However, they cautioned against certain details I had introduced for the player character, noting that the second-person perspective makes any imposed background information potentially immersion-breaking.

Regarding the timer mechanic, the playtester observed: “Removing the timer did not negatively impact the game…it adds to the pressure, but it’s not necessary for the game.” Considering this feedback, I decided that both the timer mechanic and relationship variables were simply not consequential enough, or would take too long to implement, to risk dedicating more time. 

While developing another iteration, I realized I had neglected one of the four E’s in my initial planning: I had not adequately considered how to embed narrative details throughout the player experience. Although no playtester had explicitly requested more information about the caller, debrief sessions revealed that their difficulty selecting appropriate dialogue stemmed partially from limited character knowledge—they knew only that the character was suicidal. There was no context regarding the caller’s background, circumstances leading to this crisis, identity, or lived experience prior to this interaction. The character lacked authentic dimension.

Given the project timeline, I decided to prioritize my strengths and concentrate on narrative writing. I aimed to create a fully realized caller character and ground the player through environmental details such as their home setting, the qualities of the caller’s voice caller’s, and the embodied symptoms of anxiety experienced by the player character. I focused on developing four distinct endings: the caller disconnecting, the caller’s death, the player contacting support services without caller consent, and the player securing support with caller consent. These endings best captured what I envisioned as realistic outcomes for such an encounter and represented the four major narrative pathways I had been developing throughout the writing process.

Playtest 7 

I conducted a playtest during office hours with a new participant, a female classmate in their early twenties. They played a near-final version of the game. While a few narrative loops remained unresolved, occasionally causing passages to redirect incorrectly, all endings had been finalized. The caller character now possessed substantially more developed backstory, including specific life circumstances that precipitated the hotline call. Following gameplay, I asked the participant to debrief out loud about their experience.

They remarked, “I liked how in the beginning [the player wasn’t] sure of what was going on, but over time you get context about the person calling.” I interpreted this as appreciation for the gradual revelation of the caller’s backstory throughout gameplay. After further discussion, I asked her to evaluate how effectively my game functioned as an “empathy machine,” per the intended learning objectives of this unit.

She expressed, “I felt you could empathize with the person who is suicidal but also with someone who has a friend who is suicidal. You never know what to say to someone in that case. This game helps me empathize with that situation more.” This response was particularly gratifying. My intention was not to generate sympathy for the caller, but rather to deliberately position the player in a moment of responsibility when confronted with expressed suicidal intentions. What do you do? What do you say? Hearing a playtester confirm this design goal was rewarding.

Yet, final refinements remained necessary; I needed to correct spelling errors, resolve narrative loops, and polish up the text of the story overall. I addressed these elements in preparation for the final playtest.

Playtest 8

The final playtest was conducted with the same participant from the second playtesting session. I wanted to see how someone familiar with the earliest version of the game would respond to the completed version. This iteration featured a fully realized caller backstory incorporating three major narrative elements: the death of the caller’s sister, parental disownment, and a sexual harassment incident. This version also eliminated all repetitive loops, and all endings were fully written and integrated into the game.

(Final playtest, posted with permission)

During the debrief, the playtester exclaimed, “It has progressed so far!” Hearing this was very rewarding.

I asked about their experience with the choices players had throughout the game. They explained that each dialogue choice required careful consideration. When reflecting on their decision-making process, the playtester commented, “I want to be sensitive to the matter, so I avoided options that were too harsh, but realized being too placating also wasn’t helpful and sometimes [I] needed to be direct.” The playtester also shared their perspective on the character’s backstory, noting appreciation for the gradual revelation of narrative elements, and for how those components connected to illustrate the full scope of circumstances leading to this crisis moment.

After they finished playing, I asked about how they felt, and they stated, “I felt invested in getting a good ending. I was thinking deeply between the choices because I didn’t want a bad ending.” The playtester also offered the following assessment: “[Choosing options is] hard. Maybe it’s better to be more open-ended here, or more sympathetic here. But actually, it seems it’s better to be firmer in certain situations. It feels educational to me…In some situations it’s better to confront it, make [the caller] think of things in the moment.”

In the approximately fifteen minutes required to reach the good ending, I intended for players to recognize that direct, honest conversation about suicide is sometimes the only viable pathway to meaningful dialogue on the topic. While I acknowledge that such directness can be triggering, respectful and vulnerable conversation can foster trust and ultimately create space for seeking help. Based on the playtester’s feedback, I had successfully conveyed how that directness is sometimes necessary.

MDAO Framework Analysis

Mechanics: Interactive fiction frequently prioritizes narrative content over mechanical complexity, with some exemplary works relying solely on basic clicking interactions. For this project, I deliberately aimed to create emotional tension rather than mechanical tension. I maintained the simplest possible interactions in order to allocate my time towards crafting a compelling narrative. This minimalist mechanical approach allowed me to concentrate on writing quality and emotional depth rather than technical implementation.

Dynamics: My intention was for players to become fully absorbed in the narrative experience and feel genuine responsibility for the consequences of their choices. To facilitate this sense of agency, I developed numerous dialogue options and branching pathways, ensuring players could approach the scenario in ways that felt authentic to their own decision-making processes. This extensive branching structure was designed to reinforce player investment and the weight of their choices throughout the experience.

Aesthetics: I did not prioritize fun or entertainment in the traditional sense. Rather than seeking to generate elation or excitement, I aimed for sustained engagement characterized by tension, perceived risk, and deep player investment. The aesthetic goal centered on creating an emotionally challenging experience that demanded thoughtful participation rather than providing comfort or conventional gaming pleasure.

Outcomes: I believe that in at least one playtesting session, I successfully achieved my primary outcome of creating space for meaningful conversations about suicide. I do not claim this game represents the optimal or exclusive method for facilitating such discussions; rather, I intended it to provide an accessible opportunity for dialogue. By establishing a modest, achievable outcome goal, I increased the likelihood of succeeding in my design goals. Had I pursued a more ambitious objective—such as training players to serve as crisis responders—the game would likely have failed to meet that standard. The narrowed focus of my goals allowed for me to prioritize meaningful impact within realistic constraints.

Branching Map

(Full Twine map for game)

Reflection

In this project, I used Twine to create an interactive fiction game about a suicide disclosure that occurs over the phone. Framed as a wrong number phone call, players have to confront their own reservations about discussing suicide by guiding a character through a crisis towards getting connected to appropriate support systems. The goal of this game is to encourage direct conversations about suicide and reduce the stigma of discussing suicide. 

I learned how to add branching passages on Twine. I learned better etiquette for recording and documenting my playtests. And I learned about the benefits of narrowing my project scope; by leaning into my strengths, I was able to build a better game than I could have if I had taken more time to try to acquire a new coding skill.

That said, next time I use Twine, I want to be much more intentional about learning how to code color changes, add sound effects, and implement variables, on Twine. I felt that my game would have been better if I had spent more time working those out.