𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 ; 𝘉𝘺𝘭𝘦𝘳

𝟐𝟕.

His jeans were stained brown and torn at the knees. His fingernails bent back, bruised, and filled with lint. Residue from the rope.

Oh and also, his life was over.

He didn't understand the point anymore. No one would've gone looking for him. No one was left in this world who actually loved him.

Maybe El would've been worried. Maybe she would've even called the cops, get a search party. But she'd be sure to forget about him after a while. He wasn't that important. Not worth praying for.

And he did it to himself. Why did he have to be so stupid? Why wouldn't his mind tell him he was being an asshole before his mouth began moving, before his tongue was able to form words.

He really started to hate the person he was becoming. Walking home from the basement that kept him captive for four hours, 52 minutes, and 3 seconds, one small, minuscule part of him, understood why Troy did it. Why he kept being there to stand in the way of his happiness.

He needed to fix himself. To stop being him. Will deserved someone better, and Mike knew he could do it.

The Wheeler Residence | Wed 6:33 AM
Mike Wheeler

Mornings were the worst. He was always reminded of the smell of pine trees mixed with morning dew. A moldy freshness that confused his senses just as much as he was confused by his emotions. Somewhere along the strip was an opening, a rocky, dirt road that led to a house, now abandoned. He missed the way he used to feel when passing by it. A rush of excitement that made him want to jump off his bike, the kind of glee that made him think he could do anything. Like run ten miles. Or lift a car.

Love was a wonderful drug.

Like every drug, it had its symptoms. Made him too blind, too self obsessed in his own adoration for someone else that he ignored everything around him. Cared only for the feeling.

He couldn't get it back. Mike was an addict in recovery, and during his detox he couldn't sleep. Only in minutes intervals, only at school when he was supposed to be paying attention. And now it was almost time for his alarm clock to ring, and he was lying in his bed idly looking at the time. Waiting for it to set him free.

• • •

No matter how much of Karen's foundation he put around his eyes, it still looked like he'd been crying. You could still see the redness and bagginess of the skin beneath them.

His mirror hadn't been replaced since he punched it all those months ago. The crack began at his cheek. Lines dragging across his face with pieces missing, revealing the mirrors brown back.

Mike wasn't cute anymore. He wasn't popular, he wasn't athletic, he wasn't a kissing virgin or an actual virgin, he wasn't who he used to be. He was someone completely different. And sure, he wasn't great before but...

This version of himself was worse. And it made him so god damn angry. What kind of role model was he for Holly or the new baby? How could he tell Holly not to hurt her classmates at recess when he had the audacity to hurt his own boyfriend? Mike had always been such a hypocrite.

That's why when he moved back home and El stopped answering his calls or speaking to him in the halls, he couldn't blame her. As bad as a lover he'd been, he'd been an even worse friend. Maybe them going their separate ways for the best—

Screech!

It was the slamming of a car door, the rustling of the grass beneath boots, and the fumbling of car keys that made Mikes heart jump out of his chest.

Ted was home.

Not gonna lie to you guys, I'm probably never gonna write this shit again.

I'll post a chapter with all the bizarre shit I was gonna write, it's been four years, I'm done.

Peace!

[5/31/24 | 678 words]