lost [muke af]

2.0 - michael

2.0 - michael

Michael is sat in his bedroom once again. He feels like he practically lives in this small, dark dungeon, only living for food and school. He’s only nine now, he wants to be outside. Mike wants to watch the sun rise and then set once more, it all gives him a reminder that no matter how bad times will get, it will always get better. The sun will rise again, the day will start again. 

He rolls up the left sleeve of his crewneck, itching at the patch of skin above his two tattoos. His pale fingers traced the right angel of the L, he wondered if she was pretty. Will she love him with everything she has or will they end up arguing like his parents?

Mike hits his head against the light wooden door as he hears another plate being thrown against the wall. His parents weren’t soulmates, not a single one of their tattoos match, but they said they were in love. They said they were each other’s match, even if the Gods don’t think so. 

Under the small L is a crescent moon, almost twice the size of the original tattoo. Michael doesn’t know what that means. Are they going to meet when the moon is slim like the eyes of a cat? Do the tattoos even mean anything?

The nine year dirty blonde knows lots of stories of the tattoos being random drawings littering their body like artwork, not really giving them clues of their soulmate. Those people are just lucky that they found their other half. 

“I don’t want to be with you!” His mother cried from only one floor away. She let out another scream as some glass object shattered.

His father’s voice was loud and thunderous, it hurt Mike’s ears. “Now we have a fucking child to take care of! This is your fault!”

Michael curled his knees up close to his body, his fingers rubbing at the soft material of his flannel pajamas. Was this all his fault? He felt like it was. 

When he was seven years old, his eyes started to lose the color from their eyes. They were empty, resembling the only thing he felt: nothing. When he was seven, he wanted to die, he didn’t know what dying really was. 

When he was nine years old, he watched a cartoon sad face appear on his left wrist. He was asleep while still being awake. Even knowing that there was someone out there for him, he still wished he wasn’t ever born.