Control » Muke

a f t e r

WHO IS IN CONTROL?

"I bet you think I'm crazy, right?" Michael tugged on the ends of his skirt, averting his eyes to make himself feel less embarrassed.

"You're not crazy, Michael." Calum smiled from the other side of the bed. His face was calm and voice steady, as if Michael's confession didn't surprise him at all. "I actually believe you."

The boys were sat cross legged on Michael's bed, facing each other much like Michael and Luke were doing a few nights earlier. Of course, this time it was late afternoon and neither of them were dead.

Michael furrowed his brows and tilted his head slightly to the left. "You do?" He didn't expect Calum to understand.

"It'd make me a bit of a hypocrite if I didn't."

Michael opened his mouth to reply but closed it, not knowing what to say. Had Calum met Luke before? Did he know about ghosts already? Had Calum been hiding something from him?

"You know Ashton?" Calum looked up from his hands with a sheepish smile as Michael's eyes widened. "Yeah."

"Wait, but didn't you guys..." Michael trailed off, feeling awkward.

"Uh, we did. It was pretty great actually." He smirked. Michael laughed and shook his head, barely even surprised.

It's Calum, he thinks with his dick. Of course they slept together.

"So it's not weird that I liked Luke so much, even if he's dead?"

"I don't think there's anything wrong with it." Calum placed a supportive hand on his friend's shoulder and smiled to reassure him. He hated seeing his friend upset, and Luke obviously meant a lot to Michael. "Maybe he'll come back if he knows you need him! You could always tr-"

The door opened quickly and Karen walked in, eyeing the pair suspiciously. She rested a hand on her hip and leaned against the door frame, not peeling her eyes away.

"I think you should go, Calum." She spoke calmly but sincerely, however Michael could hear the slither of venom in her voice. She heart them talking and was angry, and he was afraid to find out what the consequence would be.

*

"You're sure this will make him stop seeing the... things?"

"Definitely. Our technology is state of the art and we've used this treatment to cure all different types of Schizophrenia."

"I just want my son to get better," she sighed, running a hand through her hair to try and calm herself down.

"We know, Mrs Clifford." The doctor placed a comforting hand on her arm and spoke with as much sincerity as he could. "You won't be able to see him straight after the treatment as it's very tiring on the patient, but I promise you that Michael is in good hands."

Karen nodded and pulled her bag onto her shoulder, giving one last look to the hospital bed before leaving. Michael was still asleep, dreaming about Luke and that night in the house just like he'd been doing every night since it happened.

Three months had passed and with every day that went by, it got harder for the Clifford family to deal with Michael's stories. His parents tried to be supportive about his sexuality and the way he lived his life, but they wouldn't tolerate him speaking about ghost boys and demons any longer. Michael needed help, so they took him to the only place they knew of who might fix him.

"He's a liar," they'd assure the worried parents with sympathetic eyes. "All of them are. They keep secrets and speak half truths but don't worry, we can fix it."

Nobody in the Clifford family were sure about sending Michael away for treatment at first, but once they heard all of the success stories that the hospital had, they figured it was their best chance to get him back to normal.

*

"Now Michael, you're aware of how the treatment works, yes?"

Michael stared up at the man with a blank face, still feeling tired for the anaesthetics he had been given earlier that day. He couldn't remember exactly what happened, but once he was asked to lay on the bed and let the doctors strap down his arms, legs and head, Michael began to freak out. This led to him being given an injection, making him slowly drift off so the group of doctors could prepare him for the treatment.

"Alright then," the man in white sighed. "After this, you shouldn't see things any more, but depending on your progress you'll probably be given medication to ensure it keeps working."

He left the room after that, not bothering to look back and say 'good luck' or 'I hope it works' to calm down the teenager. Michael tried to stay calm, refusing to let the hospital get the better of him. I've been pretending to be okay for years, he told himself. I can do it for a few more minutes.

Some sort of switch or button must have been pressed in the control room, because suddenly the machines in the room whirred to life. It's just electricity, they're not trying to hurt you. They're going to make me better.

Michael tried to repeat the words in his head over and over like a mantra, as if thinking it enough would make it true.

They're going to make me better.

They're going to make me better.

They're going to make me better.

"This might hurt a bit," a voice called out over the speakers so Michael clenched his eyes shut.

He kept his face calm and body still, but for the first time since Luke had promised to protect him, Michael was scared. He was scared to death because his legs were strapped down and his arms were tied back and he wasn't in control any more. He was scared because Calum had been talking about a strange boy called Ashton appearing in his room sometimes and people might not believe Calum either. He was scared because his parents always trusted Michael, but they still shipped him off to a hospital as if there was something wrong with telling them the truth.

Most of all, Michael was scared because the doctors were right - he was crazy - and that meant they could take Luke away from him forever.

Even after the power was turned on and Michael was almost passed out at the pain being drilled into his body, he knew that his parents were wrong and he wasn't a liar. They sent him away, but Michael knew the house was still awake. Shadows and monsters were hidden around every corner and he could hear how the hallways echoed and groaned as he tried to sleep.

After sleepless days and nights crying, screaming, begging for his life, he gave up trying to hold his secrets inside and just accepted that his mind was a deadly disease. Michael couldn't help the awful energy surrounding his house and deep down he knew he should probably be scared. He grew familiar with the villains living in his head, but Michael was bigger than his body and meaner than his demons could ever be; no amount of doctors or pills could take that away from him.

It seems that he was always in control after all.

-

If you enjoyed this story, please nominate it for @thefanfictionawards! It would mean a lot :)

I'm posting another chapter with the details about a possible sequel right now so please don't dismiss that as just a thank you message because it's much more important!