Dear Best Friends

One

March 23, 2016

Dear Best Friends,

First of all, I wanna apologize.

Listen... I know I screwed up big time with the whole SQUIP thing. I know it's been a while, but I can't just shrug it off. I messed everything up, but honestly what's new? Yeah we all became friends in the end, but that doesn't fix anything. I nearly SQUIPped the entire school. And for what? To be cool and get Christine? I'm a fucking idiot. I hurt my best friend and he still came back to save me. After all the shit I pulled, Michael, you came back for me.

Uh. All you guys are getting the exact same letter at the exact same time. (Hopefully)

You are all awesome, like seriously. I couldn't ask for more amazing people in my life. Every time you guys smile at me; it makes my day so much better. Thank you, honestly. Thanks for accepting me for the loser I am.

Thanks Chloe and Brooke for painting my nails and shit... even attempting to braid my hair at some point. It was fun being "pampered".

Thanks Rich and Jake for being way, way nicer to me. You two treat me like a bro, it's great.

Thanks Jenna for being someone who listens to me, but I'm sorry no one ever asks about how you feel or how your life is going. I know how you feel. It's shitty, but it'll get better.

Thanks Christine for sharing a love of theatre with me. Yeah I'm not as crazy about it as you are, but it's great hearing you go off about Shakespeare and shit.

Michael... where the hell do I start... I treated you like complete shit and I'm unbelievably sorry. You're my favourite person and you always will be. You've made me laugh and cry and scream, it's weird. But we're both weird so it doesn't really matter. I'm sorry for calling you a loser, I'm a retard. I don't deserve you, in fact, I don't deserve any of you.

It's making me do this, I'm sorry.

I love all of you guys (platonically) you guys are always there for me. I'm sorry I have to go.

Promise me you'll forget, I don't wanna be such a burden anymore. Don't carry this weight on your shoulders.

I should just get straight to the point.

I can't fucking do this anymore. I can't. It's not gone. I've tried and tried I just can't. I'm done. This stupid fucking SQUIP. I'm just a fucking disappointment. Everything about me sucks. It was right. Everything about me is terrible. It was right all along. I want it to go away. I hate this. I hate me.

Everything about me makes me want to die.

Please don't be mad at me, please. Just be happy that you guys can live on. Without me. Don't blame yourselves, it has nothing to do with you. This SQUIP just won't leave. Make sure my dad keeps wearing pants.

Dad, I'm sorry for being such a shitty son. I made mom leave. It's my fault not yours. Thank you so much for putting pants on and taking charge. To be honest, I needed it. I'm sorry for calling you a loser too and... taking your car out to that party and

I don't care if you guys think I'm crazy, but I deserve all of this. I don't... I can't keep living like this. I just can't. It hurts. I hurt.

This is fucking dumb, god dammit.

Michael I

_____________________________

Those were his last words. Well, written words. He'd talked to Michael before he'd done it. Jeremy forced a smile when Michael had called. He held back tears when he refused to go over and play video games with him. That night Michael played a one player game and from that night onward, he'd continue flying solo.

It was the next day when Mr. Heere found his son, stone cold; hanging in his closet by a belt. The notes he'd written lie on the floor in front of him, the pen was smudged in some areas. He'd written each one individually, yet they were all the exact same; minus the last sentence. Jeremy's dad had gotten him down out of the closet, crying. Screaming. Incoherently begging for Jeremy to wake up.

It was obvious Jeremy had been there for hours. He was stiff and his eyes were glued shut. Mr. Heere knew his son was gone, but he continued expecting a response. Some sort of "Dad, Dad it's okay, it was a joke".

However, the response never came. Just silence.

Mr. Heere gathered what little mental and physical strength he had and read through the letters. He started with his (After all, it was only right). Jeremy wants him to mail the letters. All of the letters were packed with apologies, yet they were short. Except for Michael's.

Mr. Heere began sobbing even more than he already had been, soaking the letters which were already covered in Jeremy's tears; with his own.

If he had only just asked. If he'd been a better dad, it wouldn't have ended like this. Jeremy would've been okay. He would've been happy.

_____________________________

Mr. Heere delivered the letters himself, not bothering to elaborate on the situation until he was able to come to terms with it.

Everyone had questioned Mr. Heere, showing up at their house with a letter and a tear stained face. But when they began reading, it had started to click.

Brooke was the first to receive it, within seconds she was bawling her eyes out. Followed by Christine, Jenna, Rich, Chloe, Jake and lastly Michael.

Michael hadn't cried. He just couldn't find the tears, he wanted to scream and cry but he just couldn't. He was shocked. Jeremy Heere was gone. His best friend, his player two was gone. His crush was fucking gone.

Jeremy's death had taken a toll on everyone, but mostly Michael. Half the time, he didn't show up to school. But when he did? The group sat together at lunch in pure silence. No one said anything. Each one blamed themselves in some way, shape or form.

Rich and Jake  think they could've been nicer, despite what Jeremy said.

Chloe and Brooke think they offended him in some way.

Jenna wishes she didn't butt into his life as often as she did.

Christine thinks she should've just shut up.

And Michael? He wishes he could've helped, he heard that Jeremy wasn't okay that night. It seemed like Jeremy was having a bad day, that's what he figured. All he had to do was ask. It was just three fucking words. Three words. Three words that could've saved Jeremy's life.

They all would've told Jeremy: It's not his fault, it's all the SQUIPs fault. The SQUIP made him an asshole, he didn't need to apologize. They all loved him too. Especially Michael and Rich. They would've been there for him. Hugged him, maybe even kissed him.

  Jeremy didn't even turn 18. All of them sent birthday messages to his phone the morning of. He didn't get to see them because of the SQUIP. It broke him.

  He almost made it to 18. Almost.

_____________________________

Michael began writing letters to Jeremy. What he should've done. Even though he didn't ever get a response, it made things a little bit better. Just a little.

"Jer... are you okay?"

WORDS: 1,240

PAGES: 3.5

Oh boy... that was... yeeaaahh. I'm sorry but like, angst is my shit. This is going on my Ao3 and Quotev which are both

@ DietLampshade

Tell me what you think... sorry it's super short!