Nothin' Worse Than The Devil

Angry Suprises

The sun shined through the windows, beaming right on your face. You slowly awoke to the brightness, shielding your eyes. Looking to your right, your bed was empty. No surprise there, but you noticed something off about your morning. It felt oddly calm and... nice? You couldn't quite put your finger on it and sat in your bed trying to think of a solution. Then it hit you, you didn't dream about him. There was no nightmare to wake you up, instead it was the sun. It was quite odd how being closer to him seemed to calm your brain activity when you slept. Brushing it out of your mind, you hopped out of bed to head to the bathroom. You went for the knob but it was locked. Never mind, he's hogging the damn bathroom. Instead, you headed downstairs. Reaching for the bottom cabinet beside the sink, you grabbed your coffee pot and set it on the counter, plugging it in. Setting it up in the order you always do, the coffee started spitting into the cup.

The upstairs bathroom door finally opened and out came Michael. He looked down at me from the top of the staircase and started to head down. The coffee pot made a loud beep, signaling that it was done and you reached for the coffee. It was scalding hot, so you used your sleeves to cover your hands to cup the coffee mug and blew on the liquid. The sweet smell of coffee beans filled the kitchen and you let in a big, relaxing whiff. Michael walked over to you, staring at your mug.

"Want some?" You offered.

He shook his head and was about to head to the Livingroom when he noticed something shiny on top of the cupboard above the fridge. You caught on to what he was curious about and your heart skipped a beat. The knife. Shit. You started franticly trying to think of a way to distract him. Without thinking you let your favorite mug slip out of your hands. It shattered as it hit the floor, and the hot coffee splashed all over his shoes. He snapped his head back to you, breaking curiosity from the blade on the cupboard.

"Sorry, I burned my tongue. It was really hot."

You bit your tongue, trying not to break eye contact. Lying was not your strong suit, so you just prayed he was dumb enough to believe your fib. Before you could say anything else to embarrass yourself, the doorbell rang. Your stomach formed itself into a knot and you started to freak out.

"Oh god, what are we gonna do."

You ran your fingers through your hair, and did a quick pace around the mess on the floor. You looked to the closet that was a facing towards the kitchen and started directing him to the closet where you hid him in there. It was one of those old closets where you could see out but not in. Another ring of the doorbell and you jumped a little. You calmed yourself, tried to smooth out your hair and reached for the doorknob. Taking in a deep breath, you opened the door and to your surprise it was not who you were expecting. The police, homicide detective, FBI, the list could go on. But out of everyone, you didn't expect to see your ex standing on your front door step.

"The hell are you doing here?" You asked in surprise.

He peeked his head over your shoulder, examining the shattered pieces scattered across the kitchen.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, I just accidentally dropped my mug. That's besides the point, you didn't answer my question."

"Right. Well I heard about that psycho escaping so I came to check on you, since you live so close to the sanitarium."

"Okay well I'm talking to you right now. So that should give you enough relief that I'm not dead." You said sternly.

He opened his mouth, but paused. Looking at the ground and then back up to you.

"Could I come in? I wanted to talk to you about something."