happy families :: m.g.c.

0.9

michael was in his room, writing in his black leather diary, the red words life hurts more than death above him, when it happened.

no, he didn't need to dye his hair. he didn't need to kill. he couldn't smell any pizza. so what was it?

he could hear sirens.

police sirens.

and they were getting louder.

"mike! it's the pigs! they're everywhere! we've got to lea-" james had been cut off by a lead bullet piercing his left lung from behind. he crumpled to the ground, trying to grasp air that he never would get. james had died, and now the policeman's gun was pointed at michael.

michael stood and put his hands up.

he had thought they would never find him.

A/N we're almost finished! also, if you don't know, pigs is slang for cops. i don't know why, just is here in australia.