I'm a goth

A Moment With Michael

Earlier was so fucking annoying. If it hadn't been for Firkle. Well only Hell knows. My lord! Michael has seen my scars, and the body they're on. Thank god he hasn't said anything about it since. It was hard to reply to him about the whole thing with a simple "Whatever".

This whole situation is so stupid. How am I ever going to be able to look him in the eyes again. Knowing that he's seen them. He's probably going to ask questions eventually. He's going to expect answers. Ones I'm not willing to explain. They're in the past. If I bring them up now they'll eat me alive.

No that's no good. I'll just ignore such questions. Probably best to ignore such scary thoughts as well. It'll be fine as long as I act normal. Yeah normal.

As soon as I'm done with my worry rant. I notice that Michael is right in front of me waving his hand in my face to get my attention. My eyes widen in shock, and my heart pounds in surprise at his sudden appearance. He was absolutely the last person I wanted to be confronted with at the moment. Not because I was mad, but because I was trying to calm down.

Besides he was supposed to have left over an hour ago with Firkle. Why was he in my house? Wait better question. How is he getting in my house? With confusion over my circumstances still on the brain. I looked at him, and said, "What?".

He sighed,"I knew you weren't listening. I've been trying to get your attention for awhile now." I nodded knowing I hadn't really been paying attention at all. "Sorry" was all I could think to say. He gave me annoyed look, but ended up shrugging it off.

Then he nodded, "It's okay" he said. I weakly smiled at him from the couch I was sitting on. He was so passive around me. He'd get a little aggravated then let it go. It was a nice change of pace from my mothers constant verbal abuse, and my fathers physical abuse.

He motioned to the couch,"Can I sit?" he asked. I nodded in approval, and he took up the space a little ways from me. His side profile was nice to look at. He wasn't ugly, but not dropped dead gorgeous either. He was definitely better than average though. I studied him for a moment in silence, and then jotted down the observations I had just made in my journal. Which I then returned to its place on the side table next to the couch.

It was silent for quite a bit after that. Neither of us talking. We didn't really need to though. The presence of another person said a thousand words as it was. Just knowing they cared enough to be there is enough. Fuck! What is with these conformist thoughts. I grabbed my cigarettes from the side table near the end of the couch I was sitting on, and took one from the pack. Putting it between my lips then offering Michael one. He accepted then lit his as I looked for my lighter that had once again come up missing.

Fortunately enough. Michael, with a flick of his lighter lit mine for me. It was such a smooth move it was kind of attractive. I took a drag, and then looked at him. He was entirely something else. Human yes, but not the typical run of the mill guy. He left me with a certain aura of darkness that wasn't evil, but inviting.

I sighed, and asked him,"Do you have something on your mind?". Not, because I was irritated with his presence, but because I was honestly interested in what he might say.

My interest went way up after I watched him mull my question over as well. The way he closed his eyes to think, and took multiple hits off his cigarette. "Well" he started,"I liked to know more about your scars." Those words made my heart speed up. I could feel myself panic.

That feeling was gone as soon as he touched my hand though. It was as if he was a rope that brought me back, and tethered me to reality. At that moment I realized I trusted him. That I was okay to tell him. "Well, you see my parents are very abusive people. My father more than once beat me with an inch of my life, and my mother was always there to berate me with hateful words. So some of the scars are from my father directly. Some are from me being a klutz. Those are very few though. Then there was also some random people who'd abuse me. Well not really random, but I like to view those kinds of conformists as more of the mass then the rest. To be honest life has been pretty shitty for me, but at least now I know what the real world is. Atleast I'm not blind like those fucking idiots who just take their inner turmoil out on others!" By the time I had gotten that all off my chest I was in tears. I was pretty sure my makeup was running, and that I look like crap. I was so upset I didn't even notice at first when, Michael had pulled me into his chest. Though I slowly began to calm down, and my tears subsided. I was amazed how much better I felt to let that all out. To finally be free of all that I had been keeping inside.

When I finally relaxed I decided to lay my head in his lap. He smelt of cigarettes, and coffee. That's not much of a surprise, but it smelt better on him then on anything else. After a little while longer I found myself slowly drifting off to a comforting dreamland.

MICHAEL
I watched her sleep with her head in my lap. She looked so exhausted as if she'd had trouble sleeping lately. She was paler than usual as well. Making it seem as if she was malnourished. She wasn't taking care of herself. That much I could see. It was saddening. I don't know why though. She's just a girl. Just another goth in the group.

So why do I care? Why am I noticing such things? I mean I couldn't possibly love her. No never. Love didn't work out for my parents. Why would it work out for me?