Stitches ~ Scömìche

I'll be Needing Stitches

Authors Note: Screwed up chapters. Sorry if anything happened, I forgot that there was one before this. 

Mitch wrote a letter with shaky hands. It was a letter to everyone he cared about, or used to care about. After he was done he slipped it under his pillow. He wasn't sure if he was ever going to use it, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. Well, it didn't hurt him. It might hurt his family and friends to know what he was preparing for, but Mitch himself has long since accepted it. And in his mind, they should too. Not everyone can recover from a kidnapping, and it was quite obvious that Mitch was not recovering. Well, it would be quite obvious if you cared to look. 

Mitch was tired of being afraid. He was tired of looking over his shoulder and expecting Abe to be there. He was tired of waiting for Scott to notice that something was wrong. After Scott expected popcorn to fix his tears, Mitch knew that he wasn't getting Scott back, he was too far gone. And so he stopped caring that Scott stopped caring. He could care less about Scott. There was nobody here for him anymore. 

Mitch was tired of being sad. Crying was exhausting, and since that was all Mitch seemed to be able to do, he just wanted to lay down and die. He was tired of trying to fix what he knew couldn't be fixed. His brain was screwed. You couldn't unmess a messed up brain. It was like a tube of toothpaste. Easy to squeeze out, but impossible to get back in. Mitch wasn't going to able to recover from this and he wasn't one to continue living as he was. With no one here for him anymore, there was no one to stop him, no second opinion on his final call. Without Scott? There was no reason to stay.