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There was a box at the back of Nick’s closet full of forgotten things.
Old class photos, cringey unsent love letters, gifts from people he was no longer friends with, and other odds and ends filled the dusty old shoebox. And at the very bottom, lay a note that seventeen-year-old Nick had written to his family on the darkest day of his life.
Nick had not thought of the note in a long time, not until he found it tucked inside an old journal while unpacking after the move to L.A. He’d known that he shouldn’t have kept it in the first place, as there had always been a risk that someone in his family might stumble upon it. Even when he uncovered it again in L.A., he still couldn’t bring himself to throw it away. So instead, he hid the note in the deepest, darkest depths of his closet. After all, the only people who ever came into his room were his brothers, and he had no reason to think they’d ever go digging through his things.
Now, months later, Nick found himself deeply regretting that decision. He should’ve just set the note on fire.
✧ ✧ ✧
Nick stood frozen at the doorway of his room, his gaze fixed on the crumpled piece of paper clenched tightly in Matt’s hand. Even from across the room, he immediately recognized it.
Matt’s mouth was moving, but Nick didn’t hear a single word over the blood pounding in his ears. He was hit with the sudden urge to run, anything to escape his brothers’ teary and accusing faces, but his feet were rooted to the floor.
This had to be a bad dream—no, a nightmare. His brothers were never supposed to find out about this. How could they ever look at him the same way again?
“-ick. Nick! ”
Nick glanced up dazedly when Matt yelled his name.
“Nick. What is this?” Matt snapped, holding up the note with a trembling hand.
Nick swallowed, fighting back his rising panic. “I-it's not what it looks like,” he stammered.
“Then what is it supposed to be? Because it looks like a fucking suicide note! ” Matt shouted, voice breaking on the last words.
Nick flinched. “I…”
“Why, Nick? Why would you ever–?” Chris choked on a sob.
“I’m sorry,” Nick whispered, hating himself for the pain he was causing his brothers.
“Why didn’t you come to us? We could’ve helped before it got this bad!” Matt demanded, looking as angry as he was terrified.
“Was it…was it us?” Chris asked tentatively. “Did we ever make you feel—?”
“No! God, no!” Nick said immediately.
Matt and Chris looked slightly relieved at that, though no less upset.
“I swear, it was a long time ago. I don’t feel that way anymore,” Nick tried to explain.
“Even if that was true, why did you keep the note?!” Matt fired at him.
Nick faltered. “It was just in case…”
The words slipped out before he could stop it.
Chris' voice rose in hysteria. “Just in case what? ”
“Just in case you thought of killing yourself again?” Matt finished in a hollow tone.
Nick opened his mouth, but no words came. Anything he said would be a lie, so he dropped his gaze to the floor and said nothing.
The room was quiet for a few moments, until Chris finally spoke. “Nick, please…we just want to understand. When did this happen? Why—how did it start?”
Nick sighed. He never wanted Matt and Chris to know about this, but he knew they wouldn’t let it go until they squeezed every single detail from him. He loved and hated them for it, because they cared enough to want to understand, but the last thing he wanted was to relive that day again.
“Y’know how sometimes life feels so tough and impossible that you think, ‘I can’t do this. I wish I were dead’? Like when you’ve got a test you know you’re gonna fail, or a presentation you’re not mentally prepared for. And in that moment, you kinda wish something would happen, like getting hit by a car on the way to school, just so you don’t have to deal with it anymore. Y’know what I mean?”
Nick glanced at his brothers and was met with horrified expressions. He winced. Apparently his brothers didn’t share the same sentiment.
“Okay, never mind. Forget I said anything,” he said quickly.
“You just told us you’ve been fantasizing about dying for years and you want us to forget it?” Matt said in disbelief.
“I wasn’t fantasizing! I was just stressed, depressed, and tired of life. It’s normal!” Nick said defensively.
Chris shook his head. “It’s really not, Nick. I’ve never thought of anything like that in my life.”
“Yeah, even though I dreaded school every day due to my anxiety, I’ve never gotten to the point where I wished I were dead,” Matt added.
Nick wished he could take back his words. He hated the way they were looking at him now, as if he could break at any moment.
“Okay okay, I get it. I’m a freak for thinking that, but I don’t do it anymore!”
Matt snorted. “Oh, really? Because you’ve been saying ‘I wish I could kill myself’ on a near-daily basis!”
Chris’ face paled in realization. “Oh my god. I’ve always thought you were joking—”
“I am! I don’t actually mean it!” Nick cried. But from the looks on his brothers’ faces, he could tell they didn’t really believe him.
He quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, can I get back to my story? Or do you want to stand here all day talking about this?”
Matt and Chris exchanged a long glance, then nodded at him to continue. Nick exhaled in relief, though he knew they wouldn’t be forgetting this any time soon.
“Uhm…okay… So it was during senior year…” Nick cleared his throat, feeling uneasy under his brothers’ sharp, piercing gaze. “I don’t remember exactly what set off my spiral. It was really just a series of bad days turning into bad weeks. I felt like I couldn’t do anything right; I was failing tests, forgetting assignments, and on top of that, I kept pissing you guys off because I kept saying and doing the wrong things. I just felt so…alone.”
“You could’ve told us you were feeling that way. I know we weren’t the most patient and understanding back then, but we would’ve listened. We would’ve helped,” Chris said softly.
Nick sighed. “I know… It’s just that…it sounded so stupid. There I was, having a breakdown after I lost my favorite scarf for the third time that week, while there were people with actual problems.”
“If it was upsetting you enough that you wanted to hurt yourself, then it’s never stupid, Nick,” Chris insisted.
“I guess…” Nick muttered, then quickly corrected himself when he saw the look on Chris’ face. “No really, I get it, Chris. It’s just hard to believe it when you’re in that kind of mental state.”
“We’ll work on that,” Chris promised.
Nick offered a weak smile in response.
“Anyway, as I was saying, I felt alone…like no one cared. With each passing day, it got harder and harder to keep going as my failures piled up. I wondered if anyone would even notice if I just…ended things.”
Nick heard his brothers’ sharp intake of breath at his words. He stared at the floor, unable to bear the heartbreak in their eyes.
“I kept thinking about it, but I didn’t act upon it…until one Sunday afternoon. We had some stupid fight about groceries, I think it was because I forgot to get the milk or something. It wasn’t even the argument itself, I know we’ve had plenty of worse ones. But I was barely holding myself together at that point, and that fight was the final crack in my crumbling suit of armor.
“The next few hours felt like a dream. I only really remember stealing Mom’s bottle of sleeping pills and writing my goodbye note. I skipped dinner, not seeing the point when I won’t be hungry anymore after that night. Instead, I lay in bed and stared at nothing while waiting for everyone to go to bed.”
Nick ran a trembling hand through his hair, lost in the memories of the darkest day of his life. He still vividly remembered the overwhelming despair and hopelessness, and the longing desire to go to sleep and never wake up.
A gentle touch on his shoulder drew him out of his spiraling thoughts. He blinked, only now realizing that Matt and Chris had edged closer while he was speaking, until they were practically pressed against him.
“What stopped you?” Matt said quietly.
“It was you. Both of you. The two of you were playing Mario Kart in Chris’ room when I came to say my final goodbyes. We hadn’t talked since our earlier argument, and I fully expected both of you to still be annoyed at me.” Nick paused, then continued softly, “But you weren’t. Your faces immediately lit up when you saw me, and you dragged me over to play with you, even though we all knew I was a terrible player. All the while, you were chattering in my ear about some story Nathan had just shared with you.
Nick’s voice broke. “And I…I just couldn’t do it. Because I realized then how much you guys loved me, and I couldn’t do it to you.”
“Of course we do, idiot. How could you think we wouldn’t care?” Matt said with a half-hearted glare, tears streaming down his face.
“I know that now. I’m sorry,” Nick mumbled guiltily.
“You should’ve told us. We came so close to losing you and we didn’t even know,” Chris whispered as he and Matt pulled Nick into a bone-crushing hug.
“I’m sorry,” Nick repeated quietly.
“An idiot, you’re an idiot,” Matt mumbled into his shoulder.
Matt and Chris held him tightly, as if they were terrified he'd disappear the moment they let go. Nick let out a breath and relaxed into their embrace, feeling some of his tension melt away in their comforting presence.
There were still so many things that were left unsaid, and Nick could tell his brothers had many more questions. But he had enough heavy, emotional conversations for one day. Thankfully, it seemed his brothers felt the same.
When they eventually broke apart, Nick said, “I’m going to get rid of the note.”
“As you should’ve from the beginning,” Matt said scornfully. “But then again, we never would’ve found it if you had done so.”
Nick narrowed his eyes. “About that. Why were you two snooping in my closet?”
Chris snorted. “Blame Matt. He was searching for one of his shirts and accidentally knocked over some of your stuff. We found the note while trying to clean up the mess he made.”
Matt rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry about that. I promise I’ll clean it up later, after I’ve found my shirt.”
Nick stared blankly at him. “Matt, none of your clothes are in my closet.”
“Well, one of you must have taken it, because I can’t find it!” Matt grumbled.
Chris rolled his eyes in exasperation. “I told him that he must’ve left it back in Boston, but he kept insisting that we ‘stole’ it,” he said to Nick.
“Which shirt are you looking for?” Nick asked.
“The yellow and white striped one,” Matt replied.
Nick huffed a laugh. “Matt, Chris is right. You left it back in Boston.”
“I did not–!”
“Yes, you did! You wore it the day before our flight and couldn’t get it washed in time, remember?” Nick pointed out. “Go check with Mom if you don’t believe me.”
From the look on Matt’s face, he clearly remembered now. “Ah…right. I forgot,” he said sheepishly.
“That’s it? ‘Oops, I forgot?’ Don’t I get an apology for being wrongfully accused?” Chris said indignantly.
“Well, you can’t blame me for thinking that. You two have borrowed my clothes more times than I can count!” Matt protested.
“Hey, you do it just as much as we do! I can’t believe you’re still blaming us for this!” Chris exclaimed.
Nick smiled faintly as his brothers started bickering. He tuned them out and reached down to pick up the piece of paper lying on the floor–the cause of this entire mess.
He carefully unfolded and smoothed out the paper. The ink was faded and barely readable in some places, but it didn’t matter. He still remembered every word as if he had written it yesterday.
He silently read through the note one last time, then took a deep breath and tore it in half. The sound echoed in the suddenly quiet room, his brothers pausing in their argument to look over at him. He kept ripping up the note until all that remained were tiny shreds of paper. He dropped them into the bin and released a long breath. It felt surprisingly cathartic, like an invisible weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
Nick turned back to meet Matt and Chris’ gaze. They didn’t say anything; they only watched him carefully, patiently waiting for him to break the silence.
“Thank you. For listening. For understanding,” he said quietly.
Chris gave him a soft smile and reached over to squeeze Nick’s hand reassuringly. “Of course. You’re never alone, Nick. We’re always here for you.”
Matt nudged his shoulder. “And don’t you ever keep a secret like this from us again. Or we’ll post all your embarrassing high school photos on the Internet,” he said in a teasing tone, though his face was serious.
“I won’t. I promise,” Nick said sincerely.
And he meant it. Nick had shared his most shameful secret with them, and they still didn’t see him differently. They were hurt and upset, but they understood and loved him just the same.
He wasn’t alone anymore. No—he never was. His brothers had always been there for him, he just hadn’t realized it.
Nick knew he still wasn’t completely okay. There would be days when his thoughts would slip back to the same dark place that had once driven him to write that note. But that was okay. Because no matter how far he fell, Nick trusted that his brothers would always be there to catch him and pull him back into the light.