To love you | Malum

Ch. 17 - Visits + Bitterness

Michael + Ch. 17 - Visits + Bitterness

Life is meant to be full of color and excitement and adventures, but when you're in a hospital bed, tied to a bunch of tubes with a wheelchair in the corner of the room, you start to question everything. I couldn't think straight with the sound of absolutely nothing filling the empty rooms, aside from the clattering of high heels that a nurse was wearing because she had a hot date tonight. That was just something I didn't care about. It was another day in this musky old place, and just like any other occasion, I was alone for a decent amount of time. The doctor would check up on me every once in a while, offer me a bowl of soup or some chicken strips, and I'd reject both because I'm never really hungry. It's just the honest truth, but they force me to eat, anyway. But then there was her. It was the one person I didn't want to see – because she damaged my childhood, corrupted my sanity, yet here she was, standing in the back of the room, near the door, with a fake sympathetic smile on her face because she wants forgiveness. It's a shame I won't give it to her.

"What the hell do you want?" I spat, retracting my eyes away from my heart monitor and focusing on her cold green ones. They were bitter, vulgar, the complete opposite of me, and somehow, they reminded me of Luke, and how aggressive he's been towards me. How he's the reason I'm trapped up in this coop. "I specifically told the doctors that I didn't want you in this room."

"Michael, listen, –"

"No," I cringed, hating the sound of her voice, hating the way that I was a part of her, and she only thought of me as a mistake, just like everyone else in Pleine High School. "You listen to me. You know damn well that I'm not going to forgive you for walking out of our lives like that, at a young age, where I had to constantly get bullied because oh, it's not normal for a son to be with only a daddy and not a mommy. Must be some freak then."

"You aren't a freak," Karen sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, and I wanted to slap her right then and there. But I wasn't aggressive. I always believed the conversations could get rid of the damage that's been caused, rather than violence. Violence never wins. "That isn't what you said when you left dad and I for some filthy rich bitch that's completely in debt now."

"Don't talk to me like that."

"I'm almost an adult, and I have this thing called freedom of speech, meaning that according to the law, I'm allowed to express how I feel without you regulating me for it. I'm also allowed to control who speaks to me and who doesn't, and you, you're not on that list. So goodbye, wasn't nice talking to you."

"Michael, please-"

I wasn't going to deal with this anymore. I needed space and time away from everything, because nothing seemed to be going right. It was just a difficult kind of thing, and I wanted to trap myself inside of this bubble and float away. But then I'd never see Calum again, and I really like him. "Go, now, before I have security take you out."

And it was only a matter of seconds for her to shamefully stomp away with pouty lips, and I just didn't care. I wanted to sleep. So that's exactly what I was going to do.

-

"Just sign these first four pages, dot your initials on the next three, and have Michael sign the final page in order for him to be released in the next ten minutes. . ."

I didn't mention that I was sitting in my wheelchair again. That was probably the worst thing about today, because I've hated being in this thing for as long as I can remember. But Calum - he was by my side, his fingers intertwined with mine because he wanted to make sure I was safe, when in reality, it was just an excuse to hold my hand. I didn't miss the way he continued to smile down at me as I gave his hand a squeeze. I didn't miss the way he repeatedly thanked the doctor for making sure I was okay. I didn't miss the way he was elevating his feet, so he could grow more comfortable while waiting. But I did miss the way he was on the verge of tears, and there wasn't all that much that I could do about it.