Annya showed me a video about people giving the homeless presents on Christmas and I wanted to write a thing.
TRIGGERING - ATTEMPTED SUICIDE.
~
Living on the streets wasn't anything new to Michael as they'd been his home since he was 16, which he blames entirely on his foster parents. Well, and Luke's mum.
When he was 14, both his parents died from a freak accident whilst on holiday in France. Michael wasn't legally old enough for the authorities to ignore and there was nobody to take him in, so he was forced to live with foster parents.
To say Michael 'didn't like them' wouldn't cover it.
No, he hated them.
They were the strictest people he'd ever come across in his life, like two real life Mrs. Trunchbulls.
"Michael Gordon Clifford! Why is your shirt not tucked in?"
"Video games? We can't have you playing such nonsense things. Read a book - and not a comic book, a real book!"
"Michael, why haven't you done your homework? That should be the first thing you do when you get home!"
"What has happened to your hair?! Reverse it immediately!"
"You haven't cleaned the kitchen yet! I asked you to do it five minutes ago!"
The best decision he ever made, in Michael's opinion, was running away from them. He ended up crashing on his friends' sofas, promising their parents over and over again that he'd only stay for 'one more night!', but he never really left until forced.
Then one day he had finally earned enough money from his shitty job as a waiter to leave Luke's sofa and move into his own apartment.
It was really small and came with rubbish appliances, but Michael managed to make it work. His friends, Luke, Calum and Ashton, would come over to hang out every Friday so they didn't have to worry about parents ruining their fun ((aka cheeky bum sex #ot4)) and Michael was less lonely when they did.
Of course, he was being looked for by the authorities when his foster parents had declared him missing, one of the many reasons why his friends' parents weren't keen on him staying, but Michael somehow managed to get away with it.
All was good until he got a call on his mobile from his friend Calum.
"I'm sorry, Michael, I'm so sorry-"
"Calum, what's going on? It's like 3am" Michael groaned, even though it was actually 7:30.
"It's Liz, she told the authorities where you were when she found out you didn't go home. Luke tried to stop her but he couldn't; she shut him in his room. I'm so sorry dude but if you wanna run then you need to get out of there - now" Michael cursed as he hung up the phone and ran to the front door, bolting it shut and pulling the chain over, making sure it was locked properly before he shoved some things into a rucksack.
Michael didn't have time to grab necessities - one of the most important being his huge stash of money under the loose floorboard in his room, another being his debit card - as he heard people yelling for him to open the door.
Scared, Michael quickly looked around for an escape route, when his eyes landed on the fire escape in his room.
Without a second thought, Michael ran into his room and barricaded himself in before he tried desperately hard to yank the window open, hearing people trying to bash the door down.
