Silent (Scomiche)

Memories and Good Moments

"An eighteen year old male identified as Travis Bush was found dead inside of an abandoned hotel room last night at approximately 1:45 in the morning. It has been clarified as a suicide, as there was pure evidence of him hanging himself. No other finger prints or evidence was found indicating any type of murder. The only items found other than his clothing was his cell phone which was in his pocket, a match, and a note written towards someone. The note reads 'I love you, M. -Travis B'. This unknown person has been identified as the cause of the suicide. We have no information as to how he is related to it yet. He could've done anything. More evidence will most likely be found when we take a look into his old house and old places where he lived and-"

Mitch couldn't take it any longer. He turned off the TV and threw the remote. Mitch wipes his tears away.

"How?" He thought to himself. "Why?"

Travis told him he was coming back soon. But the text... Mitch didn't know that was what the text was about. He thought he was genuinely apologizing, which he probably was.

Mitch thinks about the texts even more.

"I won't be in your life anymore."

"You won't have to deal with my sad excuse of a life."

Mitch never even thought about him committing suicide. It seemed so unlike him. He was always so cocky, and conceived. This was the last thing Mitch would've expected him to do.

As bad as Mitch didn't want to get involved with more of this, he had to go to the police. He had to show the message and tell them it was him.

He grabs his phone and a few other things before heading out of the door and towards the police station.

He didn't care if people saw his tear stained cheeks and puffy and red eyes. He didn't care if they saw his t-shirt with a stain on it. He just didn't care.

He reaches the station and hesitantly walks in. A familiar police walks over to him, the one he had talked to many times before.

"Mitchell. Come sit." It was obvious why Mitch was here. Everyone in the damn station knew why Mitch was here. "Do you have evidence?"
Mitch nods.

He is lead into another room where he is privately talked to. He shows him the text message, unaware of how to come across not saying anything to anyone about it. Scott didn't know, his parents, and even Kirstie.

"Were you aware that this was a suicide note?" Mitch shakes his head because he honestly had no idea.

"N-no."

"I didn't think so. How are you holding up? I'm guessing you saw the report?" Mitch nods again. "This isn't your fault."

Mitch forgot his notebook. He couldn't say anything back and he felt so useless. The officer catches this and hands him a piece of paper and a pencil.

Why do I feel like it is?

"You're been through so much, Mitch. I understand how you feel. He was a horrible man to you. You scared him because he loved you and you don't love him. He felt that if he couldn't have you like he wanted to, then he needed to leave earth. He hurt you and he knew it. He couldn't live with himself. But he also couldn't stop himself. He would've kept hurting you until you couldn't take it anymore."

I don't want that, but I still feel wrong. Why do I feel like it should've been me instead of him?

"Anyone would. Even though he did bad things to you, you still had some type of relationship with him. It's like finding out a bully has a horrible home life. You don't necessarily like them, but you still feel bad for them."

I think I get it.

"Thank you for these texts, Mitch. Now people will know that the 'unknown person' was the man he loved, not one that hurt him like he hurt you." He takes a breath. "You should go home and get some rest, okay? Take a nap and try to not think about this." Mitch nods.

They both get up from their seats and walk back towards the door. Mitch gives the man a hug.

"If you need anything, you can come down here and see me, okay?" Mitch nods, looking at the mans name tag.

Marshall.

"Do you need a ride home?" Mitch shakes his head. The bid their goodbyes and he starts on his way home.

He sees familiar faces, almost too many. When he walks, he sees the people that he never put much focus into.

The man playing his guitar on the corner, another man working at an ice cream cart, a women doing face paint on kids in the park, and small children playing on the swing sets and monkey bars.

Why hasn't Mitch noticed these before? All he had ever noticed was the fact that there was a park.

He continues walking down the sidewalk. He passes multiple people. Some female, some male, some elders, some young. There was a variety of different people.

He passes a bookstore, the one where he bought his favorite book: To Kill A Mockingbird. He remembers how Kirstie made fun of him for picking such an old book, but he just enjoyed the writing. It was smooth and somehow was inspiring to him.

He wasn't one for literature, but this book stood out. He had read it 7 times in the past few years and will probably read it a lot more through out his life.

He passes a small store where he got his first shirt that was over $100. He took lots of pride in that when he first got it.

He didn't know how happy his surrounding made him, all of the memories and good moments he never cared to look around and relive.

He finally reaches the beginning of his neighborhood, when he sees the hill in which he learned to ride a bike, and the house he used to babysit at until he forgot to show up one time, he sees the creek in someone's back yard that said "no trespassing" but him and Kirstie did it anyway because it was beautiful back there.

He gets to his home. He looks at it. The one window with different looking glass because he once shattered it when trying to be athletic to prove to his friends he could in elementary school. He sees the dent in his moms car, where he accidentally rammed into the side of a few weeks ago.

And he felt happy.

That's what Mitch needed at the moment. He needed to be happy.