The Tutor// m.c {COMPLETED}

34.

*if you want to you can play "human" by Christina Perri. It doesn't really much at first, but it's a sad song, and it'll add a better experience to the chapter I think*

I impatiently sat in the hospital waiting room, hoping that Michael was okay. They said his injuries weren't too critical, even though he had to go into surgery. That means I'm not allowed to see him for at least another day if it went less than okay, which is literally killing me.

It's all my fault. I don't even want to look at myself at all. And I haven't been taking care of myself since I got here about 9 hours ago. I was still in the hospital, it was nearly 10 pm and I hadn't eaten anything. Since only one person was allowed to stay and wait, and Karen and Daryl were arguing over who should stay... Luke and I made Michael's parents head home, and I assured them as soon as anything happens, I'd call them. Luke brought me a pair of sweats, a sports bra, and my glasses. I continued to wear my sweater, so I wouldn't be walking around in what I typically wore to bed. I looked like a train wreck. My eyes looked tired, even though I wasn't. My hair was up, because I always had my hair up at night, and it kept me from pulling and tugging at it. Out of frustration, I yanked out a piece of my hair and cried afterwards. I had been doing so much crying and I hated it when the nurses kept checking on me. I had to keep pulling fake smiles so I could stay in the waiting room.

For the 200th time today, I had another breakdown. But no nurses were in the waiting room, so I could sob. I slid own the wall, hands covering my mouth, muffling the cries as much as I could. My vision was filled with tears as I yelled and pulled my hair again. My frustration was at its boiling point. It was all my fault, I'm the reason Michael's in here. I'm the reason his parents may not have a son to look after anymore. I'm the reason everything goes wrong. I suddenly stood up, still crying.

My anger was quickly replacing my sadness. At myself, at the fact Michael might die, at everything. Mainly myself. I took a deep breath as tears flowed freely down my cheeks. The saltiness of the tears hit my chapped lips. Pulling my fist back, I punched the wall with all of the strength I could muster. I wailed in pain, dropping to the floor and cradling my hand, causing a nurse to run over to me. She inspected my hand and ran off to grab materials for a cast. I obviously broke it.

But it's not even close to how broken my heart is over this.

I don't want this. I don't deserve this.

Neither does Michael. He's fighting for his life, and I'm the one who thinks they don't deserve it. I'm so selfish and I can't bear any of this.

.

.

.

After my hand was wrapped up, the nurse gave me pain killers and she also restocked my antidepressants. I took them every hour.

It was only 12:15 am on Christmas Day when the doctor who was working on Michael came into the room. "Ms. Hemmings?" I stood up automatically, I almost tried shaking his hand, but my hand was kinda sorta broken.

"How is he?" I played with the strings of my hoodie, still maintaining eye contact.

"The surgery was a success, sort of. There was a minor injury to his skull, so he may be slightly forgetful. He shouldn't forget typical easy things, like his name and you. It's just if you give him a measurement he needs to remind you of, he may forget."

I chuckled. "Well, that's not too different from what he was before, thank you." I smiled at him and he returned it.

"Do you want to go visit him?" He's still asleep, but he'll be awake in the morning. I nodded excitedly. The doctor led me to Michael's room, and warned me to be really quiet, because it could mess with his brain function since he was just in surgery. The doctor finally left me alone with him, and for the first time in 24 hours, I truly smiled, knowing my baby would be okay. Well, not the ones inside me...but you get what I mean. I took a seat next to his sleeping form and lightly moved a strand of his now blue hair out of the way. I guess when he said he was going for a drive, he meant he was going to also get his hair done. I lightly pouted and kissed his nose, interlocking our hands. I slowly felt my eyes start to shut when I felt Michael's arm start to shift. I immediately perked up, checking the clock. 1:45... I was in here for more than an hour? I guess I may have taken a power nap or something. I turned my head back to Michael to see him staring me straight in my eyes.

Just as I was about to say something, Michael's expression went from curious, to scared in an instant. He shot up, looking around the room. "Um, where am I?"

Remembering what the doctor said about slight memory loss, I answered. "Oh, the hospital. You were in a really bad car accident, do you remember that?" I pushed one of the fallen pieces of hair behind my ear.

"Um, no. Who are you?" My eyes grew with fright. I'm no doctor, but I thought it was slight memory loss, not bad enough that it could be classified as amnesia!

Amnesia.

Michael has amnesia.

He doesn't remember me, or anything for that matter.

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A/N: I'm actually done with this book now. Like that's the end...

So just be pissed rn okay, I'm giving you permission. XD

Okay... So sequel anybody?

katy xx