roommates ♢ muke ✔️

xvi

it's happened five nights in a row.

dead in the night, just an hour or two before the sun would rise; michael would wake up gasping and then leave the dormitory.

on the first night i suspected that he was just stressed and just needed some fresh air but it kept happening.

michael would sneak down the ladder and tip toe out the room; careful not to wake me. only he failed and he managed to wake me every single night. then he would disappear and wouldn't come back until seven or eight in the morning and act like nothing happened.

this time i'll get to the bottom of it.

deathly silent, i creep after michael and hide in the shadows.

it's like following a tornado; he left a clear path of destruction wherever he walks. he's moving so fast that he's almost a blur.

i hold my breath and watch him pull on his shoes and leave the facility. quiet as a mouse, i scamper after him in my bunny slippers.

i almost can't even see him running across the campus. if it weren't for his lilac hair glimmering under the moonlight, i would've lost him.

i'm gasping for breath as i watch michael duck into a building. i squint at the sign on the building but it's too dark for me to read a word.

michael's twisting through the corridors, he's made so many turns that i'm not even sure how to exit the buildings anymore. i got lost after his third or fourth turn.

soon enough, michael stands in front of steel door and fiddles around in his pockets for the key. i hold my breath and hide behind a corner until michael finally finds the key and unlocks the door.

i softly curse under my breath. if the door is locked, i won't be able to see what's happening inside.

just as i'm about to turn around and try to find my way out the complicated building, michael's clear voice rings down the hall.

"after all that effort to stalk me down, i would at least think you would come in." he states angrily.

when i nervously peek behind the corner, i see michael's harsh green eyes glaring at me. his foot is keeping the door propped open.

"i- i didn't mean to follow you. please don't get mad, i was just curious about where you were going and i was nervous. i- i'm sorry, don't be upset." i plead, my bottom lip poking out.

michael heaves a loud sigh and i sense a loud screaming lecture to follow. instead, he bites the inside of his cheek. "i'm not mad," he finally says.

"oh," i say, releasing a breath of air i didn't realize i was holding. "that's good."

"since you're already here, come in." michael huffs. his invitation is anything but inviting but i walk into the room anyways.

immediately, i'm overwhelmed. there's too many emotions going on. in one corner there's a canvas streaked with bold black strokes and in the other is an abstract piece with bright summery feels. there's hundreds of them. i'm not sure if i should start crying, laughing, screaming, or smiling.

"it's gorgeous," i gasp.

"i know," michael shrugs casually.

within all the masterpieces i find one thing that keeps popping out at me.

it's a single simple drawing of a boy; a boy that looks eerily similar to me. michael left everything black and white except for the dazzling sky blue eyes. it seems like he blended seven or eight different shades together to come to the final colour.

"ignore that," michael states, looking flustered. he quickly rushes over and flips the painting downwards.

"no," i fight back. i'm strangely drawn to that particular painting.

i flip it over again and stare at it. even though the rest of the painting is simply black and white, it still looks detailed. michael hand drew every single fleck of hair, he added the bags under my eyes that i always have due to my lack of sleep.

"is this me?" i whisper breathlessly.

"no. of course it isn't. why would it be?" michael glares at the floor. i'm trying hard to meet his eyes but he refuses to look at me.

"fine," i say, mainly just to reassure him. i don't believe a single word he just said because i know that painting was one of me. "you come out here every night?"

"only when i physically and mentally can't cope with life," michael replies quietly.

i can tell he's only giving me part of the truth. i decide that if he doesn't want to tell me everything, i won't force him to.

"wake me up next time you come here. i'll help you through it," i smile kindly.

michael smiles cruelly, he doesn't believe me. "you can come but you won't change anything. i'll tell you that right now."

"you never know," i blink at him.

michael doesn't reply and that gives me an opportunity to scan the room again.

my eyes land on a gruesome looking work of art. it's a fragile looking boy sitting on the ledge of a building  staring right down. the colours in painting are dark but i can still see the faintest glimpses of shapeless shadows hovering around the boy. the more i stare, the more terrifying it becomes. the shadows slowly look more like demons and they appear to be trying to drag the boy off the building and to his immediate death.

"i think it's time to go," michael interrupts when he sees what i'm looking at.

"why did you draw that?" i demand, trying to get closer.

michael doesn't answer. instead he grabs my arm and drags me away.

"stop it! you told me that you draw out your feelings; if that's true, why the fuck are you drawing a picture of you on the verge of death?" i scream at him, fighting back.

"don't fucking worry about it!" michael exclaims at me, locking the door behind him.

"i will fucking worry about it! why the fuck do you want to die?" i ask shrilly.

"stop causing a scene. you're going to wake up every bloody person in this country." michael hisses in my ear.

"let them wake up, i don't fucking care about them. i care about you though, you better start talking about that painting." i say, lowering my voice a considerable amount.

"there's nothing to say."