MYLES

CHAPTER TWENTY- SIX - "SWEET PEAS"

[email protected]

When you read this letter, I will probably no longer be on this Earth.

Below this 'introduction' - If you can call it that -  you will be able to read a letter that has been sent to you.

Before we get onto the upsetting part of this letter, I'd like to address the fact that I had indeed written up some other letters by hand. You've probably been informed of them, as I addressed them to my parents, Ro and Nathan.

This doesn't mean that you are less treasured by me than the others, you are still extremely adored and loved by me - I was just tired.

However, I do have to admit that there are still certain things that I'd prefer if they were kept within specific circles of people.

But it's mainly me being tired.

And with that, let's get into your letter, shall we?

Thank you for everything.

Dear Myles,

Well, hello there.

I apologise for the awkward opening to this letter, as I really have no idea how to phrase anything in this particular moment.

You're fantastic, and I can't say that enough.

I remember when I first saw you, completely in black, a cigarette hanging from your mouth as you puffed out a cloud of smoke, dark tattoos and markings on your upper arms.

I'm sure everything described on the sentence above except for the clothing is illegal for a minor to be doing/ to have, but who really cares about the details anyway?

You were, to say the least, completely and utterly terrifying.

Looking at you was like looking at the cliche definition of a bad boy, and someone who would murder everyone who accidentally took a step in a five-mile radius of you. So, when Nathan was assigned as your partner in English, I practically died on the inside.

I honestly thought my best friend was going to get murdered.

And I completely died, both on the inside and the outside when he said he was going to invite you to come and sit at our lunch table.

And when I saw him physically drag you by the arm to our lunch table, my soul had already escaped from my body and was strolling on the steps to heaven. (Or hell, we never know)

But the closer we got, the more of your scary and cold demeanour disappeared, and one year later, you're an entirely different person.

I realised that you weren't this horrible, terrifying creature, and that you were just someone who was lonely, and someone who had been longing for friends for way too long.

And I realised that the only reason why I was so afraid of you, was because you reminded me of what the person that I used to be.

Before Nathan introduced me to you, Spencer, Alex and Ro, I was a nobody. I clung onto him like he was my lifeline because I had no other friends, and it had just always been that way.

And in a way, he was my lifeline.

Without him, I was lost, trapped and confused in this swarm of students, all trying to work their way up to the pyramid that we call popularity.

And I hated it.

I hated everything around me, I hated all the students around me, I hated the feeling of dread inside of me, and I hated myself for being such a worthless, useless person.

And what I had tried so hard to forget, that scared, sad and lonely boy that I once was, all came back to me the moment I landed eyes on you.

And I was scared, not of you, but of the past fragment of myself that you reminded me of.

The boy that craved and yearned for friends, or just for some sort of affection.

Any kind.

And befriending you was hard, so incredibly hard. But it was worth it.

Getting to know and interact with you made me realise that if you ended up such a wonderous and amazing person, then maybe, that boy that I once was, that boy that I hated with all my heart that I never want to see or be reminded of ever, wasn't that bad.

And maybe, I can forgive that boy.

That scared, sad and lonely boy.

I honestly can't believe how much can change in the span of around a year, in those three hundred and something days we've been friends for.

Of course, you still wear black and still look like an edgelord (Alex's words, not mine), but when you're sitting at the lunch table with the rest of us, I've come to realise that you're so much more than your exterior.

You're loaded with just the right amount of sarcasm and mischievousness to everyone around you, you somehow keep up with Alex's chats about whether you eat or drink soup, and of course, not so damn intimidating that I can finally look into your eyes when I'm talking to you.

You've been such a wonderful friend, and I cannot tell you how much you mean to me, and how much of an impact you've had on my life. Every minute I had spent with you had been utterly spectacular, and I cannot say that I regret letting Nathan pull you by the arm, dragging you to our lunch table on that day.

Forgive me for being scared of you at the beginning of our friendship, I just didn't see the amazing and incredible person that was hidden behind the black clothing and aloof demeanour.

Thank you for sticking with me, even when I was indeed completely petrified of you.

Please look after Nathan, won't you? I know that he'll be an absolute mess after this and I'd hate to let him cry over someone like me.

Kind regards,

Your friend that wants you to realise that he cherishes you and your friendship and that you do, in fact, matter in this world.

(P.S. I don't think I've told you this before, but you've got incredible hair.)

To Myles,

This new email has been written after what happened on Friday, the twenty-first, whereas the last one has been written beforehand.

And I could just incorporate the contents of this new email into the last one, but it was too much work, so I just wrote a new one. Please don't blame me for my casual laziness - They don't give me enough coffee here.

Hopefully, my parents know what order to send these in, because if not then this could be a very awkward read and realisation.

You probably already know what this email is about.

I didn't intend for you to know -  the original plan had been to keep you in the dark, just like the others apart from my parents. It just happened out of nowhere, and it still fills me to regret that you've undoubtedly figured it out by now.

To confirm your theory - No, it wasn't the illness.

I beg for you to not tell anyone else, and I still don't know what I was thinking when I decided to suggest and practically display to you my plans.

However, I think in a way I was, and possibly still am, incredibly selfish.

Although I didn't intend for you to know, my mind had probably automatically drifted towards you as I knew it would be difficult for you to consult in others.

Starting off, you had practically no evidence except some glances from me. Second of all, going to tell an already dying boy's parents that he was going to commit suicide would be difficult not only for you, but for everyone else on this planet. And lastly, you just simply wouldn't be able to.

Among your many other talents, I've noticed that you're quite good at something.

You're spectacular at staying quiet.

You stay quiet and cry on the inside so that no one else would be disturbed by your screams. You stay quiet and decide to find others to distract yourself from your own issues. You stay quiet and decide to hide your scars underneath bandages instead of telling someone.

I absolutely despise bandages.

They're white, the colour of everything pure and lovely.

The sight of red seeping through them scares me. 

The scarlet itself doesn't scare me. It's the fact that it stays as a holding reminder that I've done this to myself, and that I've stained something so pure with the faults of my own action. That is what scares me.

Secretly wondering if I was going to die from another cut, and being both terrified and hopeful for the idea of embracing death.

Do they also scare you? I'd assume so, as you never take off that jacket of yours.

You don't wear your jacket just to hide your tattoos, do you?

Well, I don't, anyway.

Wearing my sweater in the middle of the many summers has been pure torture, but to hell if I was ever going to let anyone else know what I've been doing to myself.

At this point, I don't even understand what I'm writing - I haven't planned anything prior to this, and I apologise for going off on a random and reckless tangent. I think I'm just projecting.

And although I do realise that this sounds incredibly ironic coming from me, you are loved. I meant every single word that I had written in my previous email for you, and you really are an absolutely amazing and fantastic friend.

People are there for you, and they do in fact appreciate your being and existence.

I hope someday you'll appreciate it, too.

Before I end this email for once and final, I've got to address something.

I've noticed how you look at him.

You look at him like he was the most precious thing on this planet - Like he was all you cared about and devoted your affection towards. Like nothing else mattered to you except for him, and that he was everything you ever wanted.

You can probably figure out who this 'him' is, can't you?

I trust you'll take good care of him.

Take care, Myles.

For real this time,

Me.