Hey! So I had to write an additional short story for my creative writing class and I decided to use this one, but I had to make it longer. Most of it is the same, except the very beginning and the end. I'll leave it here in case you're interested.
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The room around me was dark despite the bright yellow paint slathered over the walls and the lights that lit it. The bed was abandoned. No one had slept in it for what felt like ages. Next to it stood a heavy bedside table. A little piece of lined paper, folded in a perfect square, rested peacefully on it.

    I picked it up and spun it around in my fingers. I took a breath and opened it.

“If you're reading this, I have no regrets. It was intentional, all of it. I wish it could have been different, and it could have, but this was the only way I could live with myself. My choices. I couldn't house this power and know that I let this happen to you. I've written this to explain what I did, and to hope that you forgive me, because in the end, it was going to happen to one of us. I'd rather it be me than you.”

I stopped reading and made my way over to the bed. My throat burned with tears. It was like my throat was a cage and my regret was trying to push free. I managed to keep the prisoner held back and made myself keep reading.

“Knowing comes with a certain power, and I know you told me I have to choose what I do. I have to choose my battles. I can't just go around saving every cat I see stuck in a tree, just like I can't save every death I foretell, but I need you. You're the battle I'm picking.

At one point, I began to like you too much to ever let you go. I trusted you more than I trusted anyone else. You knew about my power when almost nobody else did.

I remember when I told you. Not about what was supposed to happen to you. I couldn't bring myself to let you know what was going to happen or what I was going to do to stop it. I'm talking about the moment I told you about how I can scan; how I can see the future. We were sitting together on my old tree house, the one my dad made me before he died. We'd just had dinner with my mom, you suggested we go get some air. It was the first moment I knew I couldn't keep such a big part of my life from you, and I knew you wouldn't be scared away from my ability.

I was right. You weren't. You've always supported me.”

I had to look away from the page for a moment to collect myself.

“When a person reaches a certain level of closeness to another, be it romantic or platonic closeness, you can't let them go. If I had to choose to let a group of random strangers die or to let you die, I would choose the strangers. I don't know if that's how it's supposed to go, I’m pretty sure it’s some psychology thing, but that would be my choice. I guess my point is that I would do anything to keep you alive. Even if that meant great misfortune to me. You mean too much to me to let you suffer.

Nobody would know if I let this happen to you, nobody important anyway, and the people who knew about my abilities could be convinced I never scanned for your future. But I would know. I did scan for your future, even though that night in the treehouse you told me not to. I did it anyway, and I’m so glad I did. Please don't hate me for this.”

My hands shook as I reached the end of the note. I only had to put myself through one last paragraph, and I would be done.

“I did this as much for me as I did it for you. It might not seem that way, but it's true. Before you, I wouldn't believe I'd do this to myself. But now I know what I'd do for someone like you, who means so much to me. I love you, Arlee.”

I had failed. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t protect Arlee.

Arlee was supposed to be reading this right now, not me. I failed I failed I failed. The words repeated over and over, taking over my thoughts as my eyes looked over the words I wrote. Words Arlee was supposed to read because she was alive. Words I wasn't supposed to see again because I was supposed to be dead. Not her.

My hands shook as I folded the paper into my pocket. I fell to the floor, my body shaking with sobs. I didn't know how much time had come and gone before Arlee's Mom and Dad opened her door and found me, silently crying, still crouched on the floor. They said my mom was here.

We all rode in the same vehicle. My mom, Arlee’s parents, and I. It was quiet. At first some music played softly as background noise, but since every single song reminded me of her, every single lyric, even, I requested they turned it off.

I couldn’t think of how many hours had passed by the time she had an open casket. She laid in her eternity bed, dressed in some nice clothes her Mom picked out for her with her hair rested in a curly, brown, almost-mess by her shoulders. Some people had put little flowers in the bed, others stood by me watching her. Other people were scattered in the room. There was a murmur of people talking about her and about what she would have wanted for us to go on.

But I couldn’t be happy right then. I had to live with some baggage that it wasn’t possible for the others here to even imagine. I could have stopped it, but I didn’t.

I couldn't change Arlee's fate.

People were starting to leave. My mom came up to me and I told her I wanted a few seconds longer. She put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a sad smile, but left me alone in the room nonetheless.

I slipped my hand into my back pocket and grabbed a new piece of folded paper. This one I had written earlier that day. This one I didn’t need to worry about failing because there was nothing left to fail at.

I didn’t have to open it to know what the insides looked like. I slipped the little note into her hand, hoping it wouldn’t be found and taken away from her. The little note read:

“Hey, Arlee. You would know I didn’t used to have much faith in an afterlife. I know you did, though, and I have no place to be questioning what’s real and not real, because hell, most people don’t believe people like me exist. So here’s my little leap of faith, hoping that if there’s an afterlife, which I now am going to try to believe in, you’re able to know what I’m up to. (I guess if you come back as a ghost you could always visit me, but what if you’re trapped in your grave?) My plans haven’t changed much. I may or may not go to community college for whatever I decide on. I may or may not move into a university to get a better degree. I may or may not move out, though my Mom would hate it if I lived with her forever. If everything goes alright, I think I want to have memory of you somewhere else in my life. I don’t want to ever forget you. Maybe I’ll get a tattoo, maybe I’ll name my first kid after you. I guess something that hasn’t changed is my inability to make my mind… Anyway, I love you, Arlee, and I hope the afterlife does you well.”

I gave Arlee one last look before turning around and heading out to my mom so that I could continue my life.