Why I'm Gone, mgc

7

They told me I wasn't allowed to see you ever again, and I tried so hard. I went to your house, no one answered. I wrote letters but you never got them, tried to call. You got a new number. You were gone forever and the last thing I said to you was "fine, whatever. Go dance with him. See if I care. The worst part, though. The worst part is you'll never know I love you. And so I made this video for you, if you'll get it, as a goodbye. This all happened two years ago, right now you're living somewhere in New Zealand with your new, loving family. And this is a goodbye-"

Michael begins to cry harder and I sit up looking at the date before back at the screen. This was taken yesterday. Last night, this was taken.

"I'm sorry that I let you dance with him- and I'm sorry for not staying strong. You were my only happiness in this world and I'm not sure I would have made it past freshman year without you- but now it's senior year and you're not here and I can't- I can't do it. I thought- if this is how my life is supposed to be... I don't want to live it anymore."

He is now shaking in sobs, tears falling quickly down both of our faces, and I had the strongest urge to break through the screen and hug him, but also to run away at the same time.

"And I couldn't do it. By the time you get this- I'll be gone. But I'm here to tell you this. Don't you ever say no one cares about you. Because there always will be, and I always will, I am someone. In my point of view I am someone, my opinion matters- but then again I am pretty stupid. And to other people, I guess it doesn't, and that's why I'm leaving. But that doesn't mean the people who care are no one's. So, when you sit there and say no one wants you... that hurts those who do. Because here's your family, your new boyfriend or girlfriend, your new brother, there they all are, and you're so ready to just- just stop writing your book. You're ready to close it, give up all hope. And then here they are. Holding two pens and your hand because they're not going to let you pull yourself down and if you do, god forbid, if you decide writing isn't your thing. Of course they'll cry. Cry so damn hard, but then they're going to finish it for you. They are going to keep writing for you- for gods sake they'll carry you all the way with them even if you're dead! And sure, they'll think about closing your book. Closing theirs. Closing both of them, because writing a book is hard. But LIFE is HARD," he pauses, taking in a shaky breath and continuing, weaker and no longer angry yelling. "It's hard, take it from someone who can't stand it anymore. Please, please don't give up. You can do so much with your life, Arabella. Remember, happiness DOES exist. I've seen love, I've felt it! It's real, and part of love is pain. Because if you experience pain when happy you know that you were happy. And you know when you love someone because you FEEL it. You just FEEL it. And don't- don't tell yourself it's all a lie because it's not. Don't try to drag those who love you down with you because that's what I did. And it just pulled me down farther, and I'm not going to let you drag yourself down either. Everything you do is etched in time. You can't get rid of it by ending your life, ending your book... It's not worth it." He fumbled with a pill jar, shaking his head in sobs as he continues. (If you know where this is from love me and copyright to the original quote this is just for my story BC it fits don't hate me)

"Fall in love, Arabella. Have cliché dates and take tons of pictures, never get jealous or sad. Always trust them, then propose. Or they'll propose. Get married, wear all white- a beautiful dress. Walk down the isle and- he'll look at you like no one ever has, with adoration and love. Have a kid, hell- have tons of kids, never miss one dance recital or choir performance, not one, because to a child that's all that matters. I never had anyone come to mine- please. Go to theirs. Read to them every night, never ever yell at them. Love them, love them so much that they might explode with it- make it so to them the word beauty begins with the word mom. Live your life, Arabella. I sent this to you to tell you everything, and to remind you that people will always love and care about you. And maybe this was hypocritical, but I just can't do it anymore. I can't take waking around and people giving me looks, I can't stand all the screams people yell at me. I can't stand when bricks are thrown through my window at night with FAGGOT and CUNT written on them. I can't stand every time I go to Luke's and we sit there, staring at a wall because what are we supposed to talk about? I hate saying I'm okay- I hate it. But when I'm in heaven, I'll be happy. When I'm in heaven I'll be watching you, smiling as you get married and have kids. Or maybe I'll be in hell- probably hell. I'll see you there." He laughed lightly, but my eyes were fogging up my vision so seeing his smile was impossible. "Kidding. You're an angel, Angels deserve to fly. So fly, Arabella. I couldn't fly without you, I had to fall the the ground. But fly for me. I love you, Arabella. I love you. I'll always love you, even in hell. Goodbye, my love."

The boy sobs lightly, the camera moving around and a faint cuss word being said before the screen blackened, leaving me on my bed drowning in my tears as I stare at the black screen, seeing my crying reflection in the screen as I run my fingers softly through the ends of my hair, the light blue color he was just talking about faded- but still there.

Before I could even question what had happened, soft music of a guitar began playing from the black screen of my computer and I slammed it shut, not wanting any more. But as the same boys soft voice rang through the room in a song, I swiftly stood up from my bed and ran into my mothers work office, opening the file that had my name on it and a small envelope labeled "pictures," my mouth dropping slightly open when many pictures fell out, me the boy from the video.

"Are you somewhere feeling lonely even though he's right beside you,

I shook my head quickly, not wanting to accept reality as tears continued falling uncontrollably while I went through the multiple pictures of me and the boy, the song still audible from where I was. In each picture his hair a different color. From red to green to black to pink, you name it he had it. I slowly picked one up, my hand shaking as I stared at it.

When he says those words that hurt you do you read the ones I wrote you?

We're both extremely happy, he has whipped cream all over his face and he's rubbing it on my nose, both our faces scrunched up and bend over in laughter. I went to the next one, then the next, not being able to take much more before throwing everything at the ground, pictures of me and Michael going all over the floor, and a small crumpled paper in the middle.

Sometimes I start to wonder was it just a lie?

I choke back a sob, crawling myself to it and reaching for the paper. I slowly open it, shaking my head in sorrow as I read the messy 9th grade Michaels pencil writing.

Hi Bella. Is it okay if I call you that? I'll just call you Arabella until then. I'm just wondering if you wanna be my friend. You're really cool and Idk we should hang out sometime. I would have texted you but I don't have your number (you should give it to me, I'm punk rock)

Ps. I liked your pants, even if they were for guys. You pulled it off.

-mikey, the weirdo with the bright blue hair. If you need to look for me, I'm not too hard to miss, I look like a smurf

If what we had was real-

I close my eyes, my sobbing becoming more sloppy as I collapsed against the floor, landing on the pictures and curling into a small ball, pressing my eyes to my knees.

How could you be fine?

"Of course, Michael. Of course I'll be your friend. " I whispered, wondering if maybe he's okay. Maybe he didn't take his life, maybe this is all just a bad dream. Maybe I'll wake up and he'll be next to me, holding me. Our slow breaths and the soft warm rain against the window the only sound, and I'll turn around and smile up at him and he'll kiss my head and hug me close and we'll lay there for as long as possible, because no one wants to lose a perfect moment like that. But no matter how many times I close my eyes and re-open them, I'm still just on the office floor. I'm still just surrounded with pictures of memories unknown to me, but that made me feel so much at home. And the worst part is, I still don't remember.

Cause I'm not fine at all"

The End

SHITSHITSHIT IM SORRY IF THIS SUCKED I really hope you enjoyed, If u need an explanation comment and I'll give one idk sometimes people do but yeah. Thanks so much for reading, don't forget to vote and comment

:-) love always -Fran