Shattered: Broken Series // Michael Clifford (book 2)

Chapter 2

(Kate's POV)
I see nothing in his eyes. My lips brush against his cheek as I walk out the door, expecting something, anything, but all he does is flinch. Flinch. The Michael I knew would never do that. I can't cry in front of him, but its hard not to.
We sit in the waiting room for what seems like hours. Ashton and Luke sit on either side of me, deep in thought. I twiddle with my thumbs and look down at the ground, too afraid to talk to them. The silence is eating me alive, so I finally speak.
"He... He doesn't know who I am." What I say causes gasps from both Luke and Ashton.
"What? Seriously?" Ashton panics in his chair.
"Yeah, nothing."
"Kate, we have to try something." Luke crosses his long legs and leans his head against the cold brick hospital walls.
"No, just forget about it."
"No way. You need him, I can fucking see it."
"HEY DONT SWEAR!" Ash yells at Luke.
"Do you really think I care?" He says nonchalantly.
"Guys! It's no use! He doesn't remember me. Just forget it. He's better off without me." A small tear falls down on my face and I quickly wipe it away, causing me to smear my mascara again. Great. Ashton places a large hand on my shoulder and I curl up into his arms, crying. He's so warm and cuddly, just like Michael was. Too bad I will never get another one of Michael's hugs.
"Hey, it's okay love." Ashton rubs my back, and Luke encloses the hug. We just stand there hugging each other in the empty waiting room.
"Okay," Luke says finally pulling away from the warm embrace, "we might wanna pull away. I've got Rachel and Ash has Ari."
"Yeah." Ashton lets out a deep chuckle.
"Coffee? I could use a break from this place."
"Yeah, definately. I hate hospitals." Ashton nods and smiles in return. We head outside, and the cool morning breeze hits me. It feels nice and refreshing, considering how stuffy that hospital was. The wind blows through my curly hair, throwing it every which way. After about a block of walking, we reach the small coffee shop. Little did I know, it was that coffee shop. The first place me and Michael got together for a science project that seemed like it happened ages ago. We walk in, the familiar smell of coffee beans and chocolate waft through the air, filling my nostrils. We slowly arrive at the counter and order our drinks. My mouth speaks before I can think it through, and I end up ordering the same thing that Michael gave me on that first day. I still remember us here, cracking jokes and talking about everything. I felt so comfortable around him, as if he was my best friend. I miss him so much. I find a nearby table, different from where me and Michael sat. I stare at our table from across the room, and hold back tears. I can see us, him, at that table, laughing harder then I ever have. I now realise that when I was with Michael in the coffee shop, was the first time I had smiled since Danny. I wonder where Danny is right now. In jail? Dead? My thoughts are interrupted by a light tap on my shoulder.
"Kate, you okay? You keep looking over there at that table." Ash whispers a little too loudly.
"She sees dead people." Luke chuckles. His response causes a slap on the arm from Ashton.
"Oi! I was kidding!"
"Yeah, but she's hurt. It still amazes me that you can keep a girlfriend mate." This time, it's Luke who punches Ash.
"Guys! Calm down!" I groan.
"Sorry."
"Seriously, what's the matter?"
"Me... Me and Michael used to go here and sit at that table." I point to the small round table across the room. Ashton gives me another sympathy hug, and Luke rubs my arm.
"Did you want to go?" Luke suggests, and I slowly nod, keeping my head down. We walk and talk with our coffee in hand, doing anything we can to keep the topic away from Michael.

(Michael's POV)
I wake up from what felt like a nap, and reality hits me so hard in the chest I almost faint. Calum's dead. Was it my fault? Why is he dead? What caused it? All these questions flood my mind until I am consumed with irrelevant thoughts. I look down at my body, only to remember it's covered in bruises, cuts and bandages. I don't even remember how I got here, or what caused my injures. It's all just a blur. I discover I haven't taken my depression pills like I usually do, (A/N: keep in mind that Michael hasn't taken those pills since he met Kate, but he doesn't know that because he lost his memory.) so I decide to call in a nurse.
"Yes Michael?" A blonde girl, probably mid 20's, calls into my room. She's kinda cute.
"Do you have my pills?"
"What pills?" Her pink glossy nails tap on her clipboard.
"Um for my depression?" I hold out the length of depression, hoping to get the point across.
"I was unaware that you took them."
"Well I do."
"Okay," she sighs, "I will talk to Dr. Patterson about it." I give he a light smile and nod, even though I feel like shit. The rest of the day I try to remember events in the past 5 months with no luck. A lady named Denice comes in and changes my bedpan, which is fucking humiliating. It's like I'm four. The next woman comes in and instructs me to get out of bed. Quite harshly, I might add.
"Why do I need to?" I groan.
"Therapy." She deadpans.
"But I feel fine."
"I'm talking about physical therapy."
"Oh." My voice is small as I try to hide my anger at the fact I have to do physical therapy. She leads me into a stuffy room, and I just sit on a bed. A man comes in and introduces himself as Dr.Bob Willow, but he insists that I call him Bob.
"I will be your physical therapist. Basically, I am trying to help you walk again and get your posture back to normal." Everything he says makes me feel insecure, as if I am back at my old school again.
"Okay." My voice is almost a whisper. The whole session includes pain, pulling and talking. Apparently I have to take 3 painkillers a day, do my stretches for 20 minutes each day, and walk around the hospital at least once a day. God, it's like I'm in a damn old folks home. When we are done with the session, Bob shakes my hand and walks out of the room with me following.
"Michael?" His voice surprises me. "I have hope you will regain your memory. You're a strong kid, Clifford." I smile and nod, but it seems weird. I can't help but remember someone else calling me Clifford too.