Tainted by You | ✔️

chapter 30

(Listen to Goner by twenty one pilots while reading this and it makes it 100% more depressing).

SCOTT'S POV

I've checked everywhere, and I can't find Mitch. Maybe he's moved out. It's eerily quiet in here, other than Mike's labored breath.

Mitch's bedroom looks empty without my things, and I check the drawers to see if I'd forgotten any clothing. I feel around the very last drawer and feel leather. I pick it up and notice it's a book. It has Mitch's name on the cover, and I toss the book around in my hands before opening it. He has logs in here, the dates scattered. The entries started two years ago, and the last one was from a couple months ago. I start on the first page, and didn't expect to be hit so hard by the emotions poured onto the paper.

He wrote about everything. Every feeling, every story, everything.

Tears threaten my eyes as I read the most recent entry.

Journal,

I've decided to hide you away, to stop letting those thoughts get to me. I've met a boy. He makes me the happiest I've ever been, the most confident I've ever been, and so much more. I can't quite describe him. I just have that gut feeling that he's something special. When reading my painful entries from years ago, I realize how much I've changed. I've realized that I have something to live for. I now understand why I need to stay alive. For Scott.

My heart won't stop fluttering as I read and reread that entry. I go back to the older entries and realize he has changed. He used to write about death and how he would love the relief of not having to deal with life anymore. He used to write about how he was worthless, how no one needed him. He's changed, and I was the reason why.

I put the journal away as I remember I still need to find Mitch. He obviously isn't here, but before I go I just need to make a stop to the bathroom, to try and wipe the tears away from my cheeks.

I really want things between Mitch and I to be okay again.

I open the bathroom door, but something is keeping it from opening it all the way. I slide in through the space that the door allowed and look to see what was in the way.

Mitch.

His eyes aren't blinking, his chest isn't rising. His mouth is halfway opened.

I give myself the benefit of the doubt and convince myself that he's decided to take a nap. On the bathroom floor.

Mitch can't be dead. He can't.

That's when my eyes catch on the empty pill bottle and glass of water on the sink.

"Mitch, Mitch! No, no, no, no, no! Mitch! Wake up, please! Wake up!" I cry. My heart is slamming in my chest, I can feel my skin grow white.

"No! Mitch, I swear to god, you motherfucker. Wake up!" I'm bent over him, clutching his lifeless arms in mine, trying to sit him up. I can taste the tears on my lips, I can hear them as they hit the floor.

"MITCH!" I'm slapping his shoulders, trying to get a reaction out of him. He's as limp as a rag doll, with his arms and legs laying askew.

"NO!" I wail. My sobs grow louder, covering Mitch's shirt in a puddle of tears.

He's dead. Because of me.

It's all my fault.

I wanted to cry while writing this chapter. Thanks for reading.

~Cassie :(