living or existing | mgc

eleven

TRIGGER WARNING!

Michael's POV.

I stared at the bottle of pills I held in my hand, about 30 of them in the little tube. It doesn't matter what type of pills they were, what mattered was that I was going to kill myself.

Finally.

I opened the cap, the only thing on my mind being free. Being free from all the bullshit in this world. It's a filthy world we live in. It's a filthy god damn horror show. There's so much pain in this world, and I can't wait to leave it.

I want to be strong. I do. But how can I stand my ground when everyone around me wants me buried beneath it?

A few tears left my eyes and spilled onto my cheeks as I shook the bottle, making a few pills fall. Taking my phone out, I looked at the time one last time.

4:07 pm.

I skipped school today. Darby's supposed to be tutoring me, too, and she's probably wondering where I am. Pft, who am I kidding? She doesn't care. She's probably over the moon in happiness.

Happiness.

That's what I want. I need happiness. I looked back at my fist full of pills, and I tilted my head back, letting the deadly substances fall down my throat as I swallowed.

My eyes felt heavy, and I laid my head down on the bathroom tiles that I was sat on, my eyelids dropping for the last time.

---

Darby's POV.

I took out a tub of yoghurt from the fridge, checking my watch once again. Where's Michael? I asked him to come over at 3:30.

I hummed as I drummed my fingers against the kitchen bench, contemplating.

I heard my brothers, Ben, Jack and of course, Luke, playing video games in the back room and I thought of how Michael would love to be here.

I pulled my phone out and found Michael's contact, my finger hovered over it. Fuck it. I pressed call and had the phone up to my ear as it rang.

One ring, two rings, three rings, four rings, five rings.

He didn't pick up.

'H-Hi, you've called Michael. Um, please leave a message at the beep.'

beep.

I hung up and slid my phone back in my pocket. Michael's not one of the people to not tell others where he is. He would tell me, wouldn't he?

I tried calling him again, another five times. It went to his voice mail each time.

I looked at the time. You know what, fuck it. Michael's told me his address before, I'll just drive there.

---

Nobody answered the door when I knocked so many times, so I opened the door and entered the house anyway. That's not cool, I know, but oh well.

It was the first time I had ever been into his house before, and to say it was eerie was an understatement. It looked like there were blood on the walls, as well as dents, marks and holes. The floor was covered in broken glass, bottles and rubbed in cigarettes into the carpet, and I knew that they weren't Michael's.

I felt rude, for going into someone else's house like an intruder, but I had to know where Michael was. If he was safe.

I looked all around the house, and as I was about to give up, I saw the last room in the house, the bathroom. I didn't think he were going to be in there, but I wanted to check anyway, just to be safe.

My hand clasped over the doorknob of the room, and I opened it, not expecting the sight I saw.

My hand clasped over my mouth, and I let out a sob. Michael laid there, on the bathroom floor, unconscious, a few blades and a bottle of pills next to him, and his sleeve was covered in blood. I held back a strangle of screams as I gently lifted his hoodie sleeve up, a thousand scars scattered all over his arms.

That's why he always wears jumpers, I realised. Even when it's summer.

I kissed his arm as the tears spilled out, dropping onto his pale, baby face. I pulled my phone out and dialled 000, continuing to hold Michael in my arms as I watched his unconscious limbs not move an inch. I ran my fingers through his freshly dyed blue hair, kissing his forehead over and over.

"Don't you die on me, Michael," I whispered, grazing my fingertips over his face. His lifeless body just sitting with me, before I heard the emergency sirens come off outside.

The police and a bunch of nurses burst in through the door, and they lifted Michael's body and put him onto a stretcher bed, dragging him out of the house.

"Ma'm, please stay here," a policeman said to me as I tried to push my way out of the room. I can't leave him.

"Ma'm!" The policeman shouted as I ran out of the house, just as the ambulance started to drive off down the street, Michael still inside.

I let out a scream, and fell to my knees in sobs as a few police came outside, lifting me up and sitting me down on the porch.

"Ma'm, are you a family member of the victim?" One of the police asked.

I knew that if I said no, I wouldn't get to see him as quick.

So I nodded. "Yes, I'm his sister," I lied as I wiped my eyes.

"Oh. We will get you in to see him as soon as possible, m'am. If he's okay, the hospital will give you a ring when you can see him again, unless you want to wait there?"

I let out a breathy sigh, trying to dry my tears. "Yeah, I'll wait there."

"Sure, m'am. Would you like us to drive you there?"

I nodded, and they lead me into the car, and they drove me into the direction of the hospital, where I knew I would be spending my night at, waiting for Michael to wake up.

He can't die.

I won't let him die.

-

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY SLUTS! hope y'all have a good one.

ps this was so upsetting to write im sad ))---::::

xoxo