"Mikey?" A small voice said.
Michael turned in his bed, facing the doorway to see that the door was open a crack, a sliver of light shining through the space. Grace stood there, the insufficient light illuminating her soft golden curls and pink princess pyjamas.
"What is it, Grace?" Michael asked, sighing as he was forced to look up from his phone.
"I had a bad dream." Grace's blue eyes were wide and scared looking, darting around at the black corners of Michael's darkened room.
"Why didn't you go to mom and dad?" Michael asked, as Grace took another step into his bedroom.
"Because they would just send me back to bed, and I know you won't," Grace snuck a little closer to Michael's bed with each word. "And besides, they're sleeping and you aren't."
Michael sighed.
"Please, Mikey?" Grace asked, her small, begging voice shuddering a little. She was still scared from her nightmare.
Michael looked at her. One look. That was all it took. Grace's wide, blue eyes were too hard to resist.
"Fine."
Michael moved over slightly to make room for his sister, and Grace leapt into the bed from several feet away, as if she was scared a hand might dart out from beneath the bed and grab her ankle. She quickly climbed under the covers and then wrapped her tiny arms around Michael's waist. She pressed her cheek against his chest, a little sigh escaping her lips.
Michael couldn't help but smile as he laid his head on his pillow and wrapped his long arms around the small girl. He could feel her tiny heart beating against his chest, and her blonde curls tickled against his chin. Michael's eyes slowly slid closed, a smile still on his face.
Michael's eyes opened, and for a moment, he just stared at the spiky ceiling in his bedroom in Suzanne's house.
He could feel his eyes stinging with tears, but for the first time in a long time, he wasn't sure if he was crying from grief or happiness. His dream had seemed so real, and it had been his first dream since Grace's death within which he wasn't aware he was dreaming. It had seemed so realistic, and now, Michael felt as if he had just seen Grace again after so long. He felt equal parts happy at seeing his sister again, and sad, because seeing her again had just made it extremely clear to him once again that she was dead.
Michael sat up and, in doing so, noticed that there were cracks of daylight filtering into the room from behind the curtains that covered his bedroom window. He glanced at the clock next to his bed: 9:34.
He had discovered another variable: He had actually slept the whole night instead of waking up in the middle of it like his other dreams had caused him to do.
Michael stood up, walking over to the window and pulling back the curtains. The room was flooded with light, and he felt a dull pain in his eyes as they adjusted abruptly.
As he got dressed, his dream was still swirling around in his head like steam trapped in a jar. Grace's sweet face, her life, as far as she knew, still ahead of her. Every day, she would plan what he was going to be when she grew up. Little did she - or anybody - know, she wouldn't get a chance to be anything. She wouldn't get a chance to grow up at all.
Michael had to choke back tears as he descended the stairs. He felt them well up in his eyes, but he swallowed them stubbornly as he entered the kitchen.
He was tired of crying.
Suzanne stood in the kitchen, manning the toaster. She had made him breakfast every morning since he had arrived, even when he wasn't there to receive it.
She turned when she heard him enter, and smiled. "Michael, good morning."
Michael nodded as a reply and sat down at the table.
"Oh, Michael, I've been meaning to tell you," Suzanne set a plate of toast down in front of Michael, but his stomach lurched at the thought of food. "Don't make any plans for next Friday. We're going over to Ari's aunt's for dinner."
Michael looked up. A dinner at Ari's house? He couldn't help thinking: My heart isn't going to make it through this in one piece.
Yay I finally updated! Sorry for the long wait, and sorry I can't get on an updating schedule, but me and schedules, well, we don't get along.
Loser_Luke
