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It had been just over three years since el had sacrificed herself. Now Mike thought it was time for him to do it too. Everyday had been a battle for Mike since that chilly night, from waking up from dreams where she was still alive, and being disappointed. To everyone else moving on.
Mike had letters. So many of them each one for a different person that he wanted to tell that what he was going to do wasn’t their fault. He didn’t want anyone to follow him into death. He wanted to be with el. That was all he wanted, that was all he could think of for the last three years. No matter what he was doing, something always reminded him of her.
When the thought of following el into death first came to his mind, he was scared of it. It would be too much, everyone was grieving. They couldn’t take anymore, but neither could he. So Mike finds another way to release his grief, his anger, his sadness, and his un-understanding of why she would choose to take her life.
The first time Mike ever picked up a pencil sharpener and took it apart was probably the same day that he realized she would never come back. He knew that el would be disappointed with what he was doing to himself, but at that point Mike was too deep. He was relapsing every day, wearing long sleeved shirts in the blistering heat of August. No one noticed, at least Mike didn’t think anyone did. Mike stopped believing that people cared about him. He stopped caring that his friends cared about him.
It was on Will’s birthday when he realized that something was wrong with his best friend. All the boys were having a sleepover at Will’s house. Everyone was changing, but Mike. Sure Mike had always been shy or insecure about his body, but Mike didn’t care when he was around them. This time was different. Will tried to shake it off but then all the other signs came crashing together. The long sleeved shirts, the distancing, and the constant irritability. He knew something was wrong, but he also knew that he couldn’t bring it up now because they were in front of everyone so he waited.
The week after Will’s birthday, Will cornered Mike. It was in the AV room. Mike knew something was up, but it was too late. Even though Mike was taller, Will was stronger. Mike was trapped.
“Mike what’s wrong, and you better not say something like nothing or ‘it's none of your business.’ I know something is wrong, just tell me.” Will asked his friend, while he was leaning on the door so that Mike couldn’t run away.
This was the first time Mike broke down in front of someone in a long time. (well not el). He didn’t even know it but there were tears coming from his eyes and too many thoughts were flooding his mind.
“Will, come on, please can we not talk about this.” Mike’s voice was breaking. Mike knew he wouldn’t get out of this. He knew that Will would push until he told him everything.
“Mike, this has been going on for way too long. Look at yourself Mike!” Now Will was biting back tears but he had to be strong for Mike.
“You don’t understand Will, you won’t!” Now Mike was crying.
“I don’t understand Mike! I don’t understand! She was my sister!” Will was yelling. Will didn’t like getting mad and yelling, it reminded him of Lenny.
“I loved her! I loved her Will and I wasn't man enough to tell her before she killed herself!” Will hadn't heard this much pain in someone’s voice since that night. Hopper and Mike’s cries filled his head for a brief moment.
There was a pause. The room was silent, except for Mike’s sniffles and cries. Before Mike could say anything else he felt Will’s arms wrap around him. It was warm and comforting. Warmer than any hugs his parents had ever given him. This was before Will would tell him to do something that he didn’t think he could do.
Will slowly lifted his arms off of him and scooted back.
“Mike, I want you to roll up your sleeves. There should be no reason that you should need to hide them.”
“I-I can’t.” was the short protest before Will reached for his sleeve himself. “Will I’m sorry but it was the only thing that helped!” Mike was crying again.
“Mike.” Will’s words were soft now but Mike couldn’t hear them.
His best friend was looking at scars littered across his arms. Ranging from old and fading, to the ones from last night, scabbing.
But that was two years ago Mike had cut off everyone. Mike had none to live for anymore but he still thought that he owed the explanations. So Mike had his letters next to him in a stack, what was left of his meds in one hand and water in the other.
It was around 9:00am when Mike’s phone started ringing. Whoever the caller was, they were determined, ringing eleven times before giving up. No one would answer their call, at least not Mike, because Mike was just a limp lifeless body on the floor of his apartment.
Mike would never know that it was Will. Mike would never know that Will was trying to check on him. Mike would never know that his mother was worried sick that night just knowing something was wrong. Mike would never know that the party was coming to throw him a party.
That was how he was found. On his birthday. Dead. He had killed himself.