Asylum |m.c.|

chapter s3v3n

I grabbed Brianna's hand as we ran around the perimeter of the asylum.

"MICHAEL!" we screamed. Firemen came up to us.

"Ma'am, are you a patient here?"

"No... I'm a, uh, visitor! My friends and I were visiting an old friend from middle school. It was me, Brianna, and Michael. Michael is still in there!" I said.

"If we find him we'll get him to you. What does he look like!"

"He has blonde hair, in a fringe almost, he's wearing a Sex Pistols shirt, has an eyebrow piercing, 2 arm tattoos, and a tattoo of and X on his right middle finger, and an anchor on his thumb." I said.

"We'll find him." he said, smiling. He rushed into the building.

"Brianna, what if he isn't okay?" What if he's dead?" I asked.

"He's not. Michael is a fighter."

"Okay, are you sure?"

"Chill, you're not in love with him." Brianna said.

"Uh... yeah, sure." I mumbled.

"Wait... you trust someone?"

"He's very trustworthy!"

"Cathy! You haven't known him for more than a month!"

"So? If I trust him, that's my decision! And I trust him!"

"Whatever!" Brianna said.

"MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!" a fireman called out.

"MICHAEL!" I called out, running towards the body they put on the floor. It wasn't Michael, it was Eric.

"Damn it," I said.

"What?" Eric choked out.

"Thought you were Michael."

"Thanks, bitch," he said, managing to smile. I smiled back and walked over to Brianna.

"They haven't found Michael yet?"

"No. What if he's dead?" I asked.

"He can't be! He'll be fine, I promise. We'll get through this." Brianna said. Another fireman came out of the asylum with a guy in a uniform. I walked over to see the body. IT WAS SATAN!

"HEY, SATAN! HOW DID THIS WORK OUT FOR YOU?" I yelled.

"Ma'am, he can't hear you."

"Huh?"

"He's dead," the fireman said. I acted sad, but was doing my happy dance on the inside. I nodded and walked over to Brianna.

"Satan's dead," I said. She got on her knees and praised Jesus. I laughed as I helped her get back up.

15 minutes passed and they still couldn't find Michael.

The fire was put out, and there were still firemen in there. They sent more and more in.

One of them came out with a boy in his arms.

A blonde boy.

A blonde boy by the name of Michael Clifford.

The fireman laid him onto a stretcher like everyone else. I ran over.

"Michael?" I asked.

"I couldn't meet you outside. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, you're dying!" I said.

"I'll be better soon." he said, showing a weak smile.

"We'll find the coven."

"Yeah, we will. And I'll find April and we'll all be happy. Me and you can live together. Maybe in an apartment... or a house in the suburbs... or a mansion!"

"I don't care, as long as I'm with you," I said. He smiled.

"Alright, we gotta take him to the ER. He needs treatment now," a paramedic said.

"I love you, Catherine,"

"I love you, too, Michael," I said. And with that, they wheeled him away.