Amnesia (Muke Fanfic- 5sos)

Come Break Me Down

Luke

The cold air hit my face. I just ran. My eyes were blurred with tears. I wasn't running from him, I was running from the pain. I couldn't take it much farther, so I ran to the other direction. No matter where I went, I would be alone. Without him, I'm alone. Every step I took, was like another step I wasted. Nothing was good without him. Actually, nothing was good without him and without memories of him in my mind. I tried to be someone else. A different person without memories of him, but it didn't work. This is me now, a wreck. Broken.

I guess I wasn't looking where I was going because I stumbled and tripped over a rock, or maybe because of my clumsiness my own foot, and I bumped into a tall, large figure, and fell to the floor.

"Watch where you're going, asshole!" A large man, clearly drunk and eyes bloodshot, yelled at me. His foot collided to my chest as I laid helpless on the floor. I yelped in pain, and watched as a smirk was planted on his face.

He laughed, "What a baby! Cant take a little bruise?"
I whimpered, and clenched my jaw, and stood up. I tried to brush past him, but he shoved me against the wall, and got in my face.

"You aint getting away that easy, punk." He said, as he grabbed my head with ease, and slammed it against the concrete wall. I let out a groan of pain, and felt my temple where it hit, and looked at my bloody hand. I felt the stream of blood pouring from my head, as he threw me to the ground once again.

I felt numb. The pain I welcomed. Why? Because I wanted to feel it. Like I said, I wanted to feel Michael's pain. I only hoped this is at least close to what it felt like. I was trying to fight. I was trying to give me best fight for him. But it started to feel like I was begging for my old life, my memories. So now, at this point where every shot this guy had to punch me in a new and very vulnerable spot, I have given up.

I felt another kick, and a hiccup from the drunk man, and then another punch in the nose. I felt my nose crack, and ribs shatter. By now my face was covered in think, red blood. My body raked against the pavement, every scratch burning my numb body even more.

The man grabbed my blood-matted hair, and pulled me up. I looked at him with a desperation to stop, even though I wanted the pain.

He wound his arm for another swing.
"Please. Come break me down." I cried.

The man tilted his head, and I closed my eyes preparing for the next few bloody rounds of torture.

A few seconds passed, and I opened my eyes from my flinching, previous state. The man was not standing in front of me, but now on the floor, in my old position. I looked up, and a boy with dyed blonde hair cracked his knuckles.

"Youre such a piece of work, arent you, Bruce. I told you to get the hell out of my bar." He said, and practically kicked his face in.

The boy's ice blue eyes connected with my own as the light dulled, and my head hit the pavement for about the sixth time today.

--

I woke up with a start, screaming out Michael's name, and my arms thrashing. The boy who had previously saved me was now sitting beside me in a chair, and I realized I must be in his apartment. He held a bloody rag in his right hand, and a bandage wrapper in the other.

The boy chuckled. "I can only guess that you are the infamous Luke."

I looked at him, sat up, cringed, and sat back down. "How did you..-" I asked, confused.

"Youre boyfriend, Michael. Hes my.. I guess you could say friend." He laughed.

My eyes opened wider at the sound of his name coming off of the boys lips. The boy noticed, and gave me a warm smile.

"I'm Niall." He told me, and I gave him a weak smile. "You got beaten pretty badly out there. Youre lucky I came out when I heard a little whimper from outside. Thought it was Michael getting beat by Bruce again." He shruged.

He paused. "How is Michael anyways?"
I looked down. "In a coma."

His eyes widened. "What?"
"You cant tell anyone okay?" I sighed, taking a deep breath. "Mikey tried committing suicide. The doctors think that he was just taking a walk, and a swerving driver hit him, but I know Michael.. sort of. He wanted to die. I know he did."

Niall looked down. "Im sorry to hear that. I really am. I hope he turns out okay."

I looked at Niall with respect and gratitude. So this is who took care of Michael when he left. This is who looked after him and gave him the courage to come back. I smiled at him brightly.

He looked at me like I had two heads. "What?"
"Thank you." I smiled. "For everything."

It seemed to take a moment for him to realize, and when he did he smiled warmly. "No problem. Anything for a friend like him. And you." He chuckled.

I looked Niall in the eyes. "Can you drive me home. I feel like I need to just be home for a while."

"Sure thing." Niall smiled. He grabbed my arms, and slowly lifted me off the bed. He picked me up, and carried to to the car. Finally, after multiple groans and yelps of pain from my lips, we made it to the car. I mentally thanked Niall for not making me walk.

It was an awkwardly silent drive back to my place, and I assured Niall I would be fine stumbling my way to my apartment on the first floor. I waved to him from the door, and watched him drive off.

I assumed Cal and Ash would be back, but I was home alone. Great.

I started to begin to stumble and trip my way to my room, but my eyes suddenly were glued to Mikey's room. I opened it slightly, and peeked inside. I gulped, shut my eyes, and closed it. My heart was breaking without him.

I sighed, and walked into my sad, lonely room. My room was so dull.. plain. Like my life without the memories of Michael.

I began to dig for a replacement tshirt for my bloody one. My fingertips touched something foreign, and my hand retreated. I slowly put my hand back down, and drew back and thick, leather book. I opened it up. It was in Michaels handwriting. My eyebrows were stitched together as I flipped through and read the pages.

My face relaxed when I opened to a certain poem. The words seemed familiar...

hold me tight; hold me closer

I closed my eyes, as pictures flooded through my mind. Pictures of laughs. Pictures of smiles. Pictures of people crying and sobbing. Pictures of cuddles. Slowly, a dimly lit figure slowly faded back into color into those pictures. Leaving them full and to their best potential. Leaving them to show me the truth. Leaving them to reveal the past.

I know had something to believe in. Something to hold on to. Something to have faith in. That thing was what Michael felt for me this whole time. Undying, and full, passionate love.

My throat choked, as I slowly closed the book. I blinked, and started to shake. A small smile crept upon my lips, as I thought of memories of the boy I never knew I actually loved in the past.

I whispered to myself.

"I remember."

---

*SCREAMS*

IHWHENEVEHWHD IM IN A GOOD MOOD.

MICHAEL'S HAIR IS WHITE AGAIN IM FLIPPING MY SHIT.

-meg🙌✨😍