The Real Scömìche

Scott

Mitch had disappeared. Only God knows where to. I pulled a pint of ice cream from the freezer, grabbing a large spoon, and wore my headphones. I flicked through my playlist until I reached a tear worthy song. Come What May from Moulin Rouge. I always started crying even before the first chorus; I could relate to the lyrics with all of my heart. I felt myself tear up already, before the opening chords. It led me to believe it wasn't the song that upset me. Mitch had been gone for an entire day. He'd never been so inactive on Twitter, his followers were turning into a riot mob. But aside from the social media thing, I missed him.

It was my fault he was gone. I'd disappeared, just like he did, for two days after him opening up to me. I'd known that he hated his past, and I was extremely insensitive. I just couldn't bear the thought of the rows of identical lines decorating his wrists. He could've done serious damage to himself, like Emily. A rebellious red haired beauty, an amazing friend, and way out of my league. But she loved me, and I loved her. I hated myself when I found her. I'd stupidly assumed that someone who permanently seemed so self confident wouldn't ever be insecure about themselves. I never forgave myself for not noticing that anything was wrong. The image of her lying on the floor haunted me always. She committed suicide by painkiller overdose. The pills attacked the bacteria that helped her survive. I found her first, tears still wet on her face, but pulse non existent. There was a note scrunched in her hand.

I'm sorry Scott. I love you always ~ Em x

I remember how I cried over her lifeless body. I sat there for hours sobbing, clutching her, trying to wake her up. Her parents gave me some of her ashes very kindly. I kept them in the locket I gave her, locked away secretly. I couldn't stay there. Everything reminded me of her. We once sat there, held hands there, kissed there. So I moved. I went to Arlington, Texas. I met the second love of my life and my best friend there after deciding that three months of serious depression and silence in school was not something Emily would have wanted. And Mitch could've ended the same way. He could've died. He might not have ever been my boyfriend, best friend, band mate. I was so grateful that his dad found him before he'd completely suffocated. I hate myself for not knowing that Mitch had tried to end his life. I hate myself for not knowing that both Emily and Mitch had the same scars mentally and physically on their forearms. The song had long ended but the tears were streaming down my cheeks. I numbly picked up my iPhone and speed dialled Mitch.

"Hey, Scott, look I know I'm such a bad boyfriend and I love you but I just-"

"Stop, Mitch. I love you and of course I'm worried but I get it. No, just listen for a second. You've got to promise me something, okay?"

"Scott? What's wrong? You're worrying me..."

"Just promise me something okay, no questions asked? Promise me, Mitch that you'll never self harm again. Promise me." There was silence.

"Mitch? Please, promise me? Please? Mitch, why aren't you talking? Mitch!" There was a small sob at the other end of the line.

"Mitch, you've got to promise me! Mitch, promise me you won't cut yourself!"

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So I have super bad writers block at the moment, so I'm not gonna post this chapter until I have a part deux. That way I can make sure it legitimately makes sense.

I would really appreciate it if anyone had any feedback or ideas for the plot, because I haven't actually figured where it's going. I just kind of improvise. I have a few ideas, but they're probably super bad so... Anyways message me.

Love you guys. Stay #fcute!