Feel Alive(Adopted By Mikey Way)

20~Shallan

November goes. December comes and with it even more snow. We have three weeks until Christmas. Don went and got a Christmas tree yesterday and Mikey and I went over to help decorate it. Right now I'm writing another poem. I've gotten better. I'm taking my pills everyday. Mikey's making sure of it. Patrick and I haven't talked since I asked him to help me. Which means it's been about two weeks since we talked last. I miss talking with him. He's funny, sweet and caring and he has really pretty eyes. I've always been intrigued by people's eyes, which might seem weird, but I don't care. Anyway Patrick's eyes are like a bluey-greenish on the outside with brown around the pupil. And he has a killer smile. Ok I may or may not have a crush on Patrick. Which you probably noticed. Mikey and I are at Don and Donna's. So is Gerard. Mikey and Gerard are talking about something. I'm writing. Or well I'm trying to. I stand and walk into the kitchen.

"Afternoon." Don says with a smile.

"Afternoon."

"There's coffee made if you'd like." I nod and go pour myself a cup of coffee. I take a seat in front of Don.

"What are you up to?" I ask noticing the stack of papers in front of him.

"Just some reports for work. You?"

"I'm thinking."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Life, the universe and everything."

"Deep thoughts."

"Mm very."

"Life is confusing."

"Indeed."

"You don't say much."

"I haven't got much to say."

"Well better to save words for when they're needed most than use them where they are not wanted nor needed."

"True."

"If people spoke a little less I think the world would be a better place, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Of course no-one has the brains to hold their tongues."

"Very true." We spend the next two hours talking about everything and nothing. Then we both put our dirty mugs into the sink and go back to what we were doing.

+the next morning+

"Shallan! Time to get up!" Mikey yells, banging on the bedroom door.

"Huh? What?" I ask, sleepily. I sit up and rub my eyes. The door opens.

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!"

"What time is it?"

"9:00. You have a piece of paper stuck to your face." I reach up and pull the piece of paper off.

"Why did you wake me up?"

"Because it is morning." I roll my eyes.

"You have ink on your cheek." he points out. My eyes go wide. I grab the sheet of paper that had been stuck to my face. The, now very smudged, ink reads If It Was. I run to the bathroom faster than I have ever run in my entire life. Well that might be a lie, but whatever. Lucky for me you can't make out the words. I grab a washcloth and wet it and then spend the next five minutes rubbing my face vigorously. Mikey walks in, chuckling.

"Your face was priceless. What did you write on that paper anyways?" he wiggles his eyebrows.

"Stop it. It's too early for this shit." I mumble.

"It's twenty after nine." I ignore him and continue scrubbing my face. When I've successfully scrubbed the ink off my face I follow Mikey out to the kitchen. He hands me a mug filled with coffee. I take a sip.