I sit here on my kitchen counter, watching the red colored pain trail down my arm from the vertical slash, into the sink, out of my body. Though, it'll all just be back later. And I'll have to do this again. My life revolves around the scars, burns and bruises. The only way I can avoid the stares and scowls is by covering my arms and legs with jeans and sweatshirts. No matter what temperature it is, no matter what the dress code is, that's my outfit. No one has noticed, thankfully. Not even the ones I'm closest to. But, that's only one person. Mark. He hasn't noticed a change in my behavior in the past ten months or so. I've just made subtle changes over time, just to make sure he wouldn't catch onto the possibility that something was wrong. Today, though, he's going to catch on really quick. I'll have my video explanation ready, waiting for him. I'll be found, sooner or later. Smile for the camera, Cassidy.
"I want to start by saying I'm not sorry. I'm not doing this for attention, I'm not doing this for sympathy, I'm not doing this for pity or to make people notice me. I'm someone who's been planning this out. I've made sure nobody has noticed something was wrong. I didn't want anyone to know. I'm not ashamed, I don't regret this. I'm serious, I can't even take my own existence anymore. The one person I hope doesn't miss me, the only person I know here, the only one I've bothered to stay in contact with since I was seventeen, the only person who's ever honestly caught my attention long enough for the past six years, is my best and only friend, all I have left to call my family, though he isn't really, is Mark. He'll see this because he'll threaten to kill you for it, and you'll willingly hand it over.
"I wasn't going to do this in front of you, Mark. Because you'd stop me. And I don't want you to. You can see it here on my arms. Horizontal slashes are for attention, vertical is because it's your goal to blow out the candle on yourself. Don't cry over me, don't mourn, don't be sad, and don't you fucking dare leave your fans over this. Not even for one second. I'd come back and kill you for that. I'm not worth the time crying takes up. So don't you dare leave the ones that need you most, Mark. They love you more than they love themselves. You and no one else can save me, so you have to be there for the ones who'd die without your smile and your laugh every day. I got what I wanted, and that was to die. I wanted this, it was my choice. So don't be mad at yourself, be mad at me. Because I caused this. I murdered myself. Suicide sounds so stupid. Ergo, I don't say it. Hopefully, you aren't the one who finds me. That wouldn't be very fair to you. Then again, with your great luck, you'll be here before anyone ever suspects something was wrong.
"Promise me this, Mark. Please promise me that you won't leave your fans over this. Not even for a little bit of time. Never give up on the love and support you have on YouTube. Never give up on the love of your friends and family. As long as you can get those promises fulfilled, you'll be fine without me here. You should stop the video now, because what is about to happen is something you don't want to see. In fact, I'll end it here so you don't watch this. You're the best possible person in existence and you're the only thing in this world I don't regret aside from what I'm about to do. Stay beautiful, and no matter what, don't let anyone put you down. Sadly, I won't be able to see you in the next video. So I guess this is the last goodbye. Buh-Bye, Mark Fischbach. I'll miss you, I love you..."
Mark's POV.
"Yeah, Wade. I'll be back at my apartment in about an hour. Don't you, Bob, Molly or Cyndago destroy it. I'll put you through the wringer. I'm actually in Cassidy's apartment building, on my way up to stop by and say hello," I informed my friend. "Nonetheless, I will be back later. Alright. Bye."
I walked out of the elevator and down the hall to Cassidy's door. I knocked and waited for about a minute and there was no answer.
"Cassidy? You home? It's Mark." No answer. I looked at my phone to see the time to be eight in the morning. Too late for Cassidy to be sleeping. Too early for her to have gone anywhere. "Cass?" I ask, knocking on the door. "Cassidy?"
