A Twist of Fate SERIES (Pentatonix)

OUTTAKE #2

This is from the initial sequel, Empty Promises (see Extras #1 for explanation). Mitch's actually being alive wasn't revealed until Chapter 32, and this was Chapter 31. This was the "suicide note" Mitch had written - it had to be written in the form of one in case anybody else found it, ya know ;) **unedited

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

( SCOTT )

I dash up the stairs, not even bothering to throw on the light in my bedroom as I blindly make my way over to my closet door. I flip on the light in there, and then fall to my knees, reaching underneath all of my shirts for what I'm looking for. My fingers curl around the edges of the cardboard box, and I yank it out, a couple of things falling.

It's supposed to be in here, I think, as I begin to finger through all of the papers haphazardly lined-up in the box. I start to panic. Where is it?!

And then I find it-the yellow envelope bent at the corners, my name scrawled across the middle in Mitch's slanted handwriting. I turn it over, my fingers shaking, and then pull out the plain white card. The one that Mitch had filled every millimeter of with words. Half in a black pen, and then half in a purple one.

I feel tears begin to resurface as I read the first word: Scott:. This is the last thing I have from Mitch, the last thing he gave me before he left. I wonder if it still smells like him, if it still smells like the ink from the pen. There are places where the pen is smudged a little bit, from Mitch's tears. I wish I could have been there to wipe them away, to capture his lips in mine and make everything better.

I look up at the ceiling, desperately trying to push the tears back because I can't cry as my trembling hands hold the card. I've only read it a couple of times, but today Avi said something that reminded me of it. I don't know why, but I look back down at the black pen covering the white card, take a deep breath, and begin to read.

Scott: Life is funny, isn't it? It has a funny way of sneaking up on you, of jumping out and scaring you when you least expect it. But, then again, I guess death is the same way. It could just sneak up on you if it wants to, when you least expect it. Or you could do the honors yourself, and say, "Hey, death, I'm ready for you to come and fuck me!" I guess there are different ways I could go about this letter, you know? You and I have already discussed what's going to happen after I'm gone, and I trust you with my fucking life. Which I guess is why I'm leaving, right? I'm just leaving this letter, so that, if anybody finds it before... you know... they'll believe it all. Well, hopefully a fan doesn't find it and realizes that I killed myself rather than getting killed in a hit-and-run. (That's what you guys told them, right?) Alright, I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore. I can hear you crying in your bedroom across the hall right now, and you have no idea how much I want to run in there and curl up against your chest, to tell you that everything will be okay. But I can't. First, I know things aren't going to be okay... they're never going to be okay again. And, second, well. Priorities. I need to write these letters for you to say that you "found them while cleaning out" my room and then for you to give them out to the people whom they're addressed to. I'm just saying this in case, you know, you're too busy acting like you didn't know to remember. God. I'm just... rereading everything I've written and, like, going through everything in my mind... realizing how fucked-up I am. How fucked-up all of this is. Who tells their boyfriend they're going to kill themselves, and expect him to be okay with it? To pretend he didn't know? To lie to all of their friends? Well. I guess that's what I'm doing right now, isn't it? Alright, well the color is now purple, I guess, because you just came in and took my black one. But, anyways. I love you, Scott. I love you a lot. I love you more than I love myself. I love you more than life itself. And I want to reassure you that I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think it would be the right thing. For me. That sounds selfish, I know. What I'm about to do is going to fucking hurt like hell. And I guess I should be sad, you know? I guess I should be bawling my eyes out. But the truth of the matter is that... I'm almost okay with this. I can't live with this constant fear of being attacked or watched or followed. I've been living under a constant blanket of depression, of fear, of anxiety, or paranoia... and I can't deal with it anymore. You already know this, though. But that's the truth. The cold hard fucking truth, and it hurts, doesn't it? It feels like someone is squeezing my heart right now-and I know you probably feel the same way. But this... God, this fucking hurts. I don't want to die. I don't want to leave you or Kirstie or Avi or Kevin or Jessa or the fans. Or the world. I love everyone so much, and I don't know how I'm going to be able to fucking do this... Fuck. I don't want to die. No. But I don't want to live in constant fear. Even if I disappear, the paranoia isn't ever going to leave. And it's not your fault, or anybody's fault, really, other than my own. I'm sorry. Scott, I'm so so so sorry. But I love you with everything inside me, and I'll never stop thinking of you... even as I fall. But... before I go, I'm going to love you even more than I ever have. Because I might never be able to again. I don't know what the future holds, Scott. I'm terrified. But, with you,... I have faith that things could be okay. Even if it's just for a little while. Love always, Mitchy ❤️

PS: I promise this isn't goodbye forever.