Chapter Text
TW: suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt,
It started as a normal evening.
Mike was sitting on his bed and procrastinating doing his math homework. It was December, and since the Byers and El moved he had been feeling even worse than usual.
The remaining members of the party didn’t hang out that much at the time. Everyone was dealing with their own problems and each person had a different way of coping.
Max pushed everyone away and Lucas constantly tried talking to her, Mike just stayed in his basement all the time, even when Dustin tried to drag him out but quickly gave up.
Mike felt extremely guilty about how he acted towards others, especially Will and El, but he somehow had to keep up the act. Boys have to be strong and like girls, not other boys. He was supposed to be a good boyfriend to El and a good best friend to Will, but he failed that.
God, he failed at everything! Why couldn’t he just be normal. How could he even think he deserves anything good, no, how could he even think he deserves to live. He was just taking up space at this point, it wouldn’t matter if he was gone. Even if he ever forgets that, which he doesn’t, his parents make sure he knows it.
His parents were having an argument downstairs that he didn’t care enough to listen, until he heard his name. They were arguing about who’s fault is it for Mike turning out the way he is. They used a few words that really hit a sore spot.
All his previous plans for ending his life were brief, he never really thought them through. This day was worse than most, so it ended up being his final breaking point. With nothing to do he decided to sleep and hope for a better future, even if he felt like he lost all hope.
The next morning when he woke up, he realised he overslept. There wasn’t any energy in him to bike to school, so he decided to stay at home and actually make a plan. It ended up being bleeding out and hoping it’ll be too late when he’s found but first, he has to write a few letters. The last thing he wants is the others to blame themselves, even if it’s his own fault.
He felt a bit selfish, but knew it was for the better. All the letters were left on his desk and he took one final look at the drawings Will has given him.
He picked up a blade and drew lines across his arms. At first it felt nice as he watched blood drip on the bathroom tiles, until he cut too deep. The world started spinning after a while and he had to lay down. He felt at peace, finally finding a way out. His consciousness started slipping away soon, he didn’t even hear the front door being unlocked and soon after his name being called in horror.