Gone | m.c. |

# 25

Please trust me guys, I know it seems like everything is going downhill but I promised it would all work out and it will :)
You all are my number one priority because after all you read this, and this story is not only for my pleasure but for yours. I want to make you guys happy and have my writing affect people, the best feeling is knowing your work has been emotionally touched someone.
Thank you for all that you do, enjoy!
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Michael P.O.V.

My feet pounding against the ground, I follow the muddy footprints sprinting through the woods at 6:30 AM.
I am so stupid.
Why did I let her leave? I should had gone after her in the first place.
I wish I could have told her sooner, I need her. She's my world and I treated her like she was nothing. Honestly, a world without her is a place I wouldn't want to live in.
I knew when I first spotted her sitting alone on the bench scribbling god only knows what into that damn notebook.
She always had a way with words, I would never understand.
Constantly I would talk to her, mostly her talking to me, about nothing. The way she would think out loud wondering the meaning of the word unique meant to her, and all I simply would say was 'you.'
God she was so different and that's what made me fall in love with her.
She was alright before I came along. Things might not have been perfect for her, but at least she was still innocent and not corrupted by me yet. Now she is dark and cold and alone.
She was so selfless, if someone were to stab her she'd probably use her last choking breathe to apologize for bleeding on their shirt. Her mind was such a beautiful place and now it's full of these sick thoughts I planted there. Her laugh, even though she hated it, I loved it to death. Her eyes would light up and she became another person for a split second. The way she would watch the way my feet moved so she would be in-sync with my footsteps, or how just watching her move and breath was the most amazing sight.

I ruined that.

I pound on her door, waiting impatiently. She said goodbye, she never says goodbye.
The one thing she hated was how it sounded like she'd never see me again, so she'd say see you soon, or just a simple 'I love you.'
Something is wrong.
I pound on the door once again, still not getting an answer.
"Fuck this," I say bursting through the door.
Sprinting up the stairs, I open her bedroom door spotting her notebook open on the bed, the pen laid next to the cap still off.
I walk over to it, picking it up, reading the scribbled words I was so used to reading from the letters she would send me.

Michael,

To think this is the last letter I will ever write you is scary yet welcoming.
Over and over I have considered this exit, this way out and now that's it here it's a strange feeling.
I have three things I need to get through to you before I say anything else.
One- This is not your fault alright.
Two- I love you and always will love you.
Three- I need you to move on.
You always called me selfless and here I am doing the most selfish thing you could ever probably do.
The world is so beautiful and some of the people like you are as well, however some just don't belong here.
It's funny how I always found beauty in words and loved explaining the meaning of things.
I wish I could simply write a letter like this, or a poem like others I've written and be praised for it.
But the honest to god truth is, my sadness isn't beautiful.
This pain isn't romantic.
There aren't any words that can possibly explain not being able to live with oneself.
Often i declared what I thought of life, it was this sick thing we are all thrown into whether we want to or not. I used to think there was a purpose for everyone but lately my pain has strengthened, more tears have been shed, and this weight on my chest where my heart should be won't go away.
Don't ever stop smiling, don't stop living because of me. I once said you didn't care, but you do. You cared too much. You can't fix me either.

You handed me the keys, I buckled your seatbelt, and drove us both insane.

Before you came I was nothing.
I cried every night, I forgot what it felt like to look in the mirror and not pick out every fucking flaw I saw. You made me feel beautiful, you made me happy Michael.
Michael Gordon Clifford.
I remember you lied and told me your middle name was Thomas, and when I found out you cried because you thought I'd leave you over a damn middle name.
Silly you, I am leaving you because I'm tired.
I'm so fucking tired.
I'm going peacefully I promise, I'm taking the pills soon and then I'll just go to sleep. I can't believe I just wrote that, I'm crying. My hand is shaking so violently now I'm surprised I am able to continue writing.
I'm missing something I know I am but I can't even see straight so how do you expect me to be able to think as of now?
Oh, tell my mother I love her. I shouldn't have left, but I wanted to be with you. Tell her I know the car accident wasn't completely my fault either, but I still wish it was me that died. This wouldn't have ever happened. My dad would be alive happy with my mom, and you'd still be the dorky popular kid with weird hair that everyone loved. ( why wouldn't they anyways? ) Just tell her I'm sorry.

I wish you could hug me and tell me it will all be okay but I don't want that.
I don't want you wasting your time on me.
I know you don't think so because for some reason you love me, but please I need you to move on.
You deserve so much better, someone that is perfect for such a gorgeous boy.
I wish I could kiss your bright red lips one more time before I go but they're too poisonous and would delay my departure.
I'm happy I got to hear your voice last and your face will be the one thing I won't ever forget even in death.
So many things are being left unsaid but that's okay, you know I hate goodbyes anyways.
It's time to go I'm running out of space to write. I may have lost this fight, but I'm leaving knowing in my 19 years I grew up, fell down, stood up and fell farther, I was loved and I loved, lost everyone I mainly cared about and still managed to make it out alive this long.
Know when I take my last breath it will be your name my lips will mumble, and the last person I think about in my jumbled thoughts will be you.
It's always you isn't it?
I love you, watch the sunset tonight for me.
Live your life you beautiful lilac-haired boy.
-Your Andy

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Well this was emotional to write honestly.
Trust me guys, I know what I'm doing I swear lol :-)
Leave feedback por favor!
-loser sam