Dark and Dangerous

Shut Down

*DEMI'S POV*

Michael's funeral is today. I'm not sure what I'm going to do. he was one of my best friends. he helped me with my suicidal tendencies. I miss him so much.

I wish that he didn't feel so bad for strangling me. I shouldn't have kissed Harry. I should've just left. I should've ran away. I should've forgiven him.

It's my fault that he's dead. all my fault. I'm so sad that I'm just staring at the wall. right now, I don't exist. I'm not here.

I couldn't sleep. every time I try to sleep, I see Michael step off the chair with blood running down his arms. I see him struggle, then become lifeless. I wake up crying and sweating.

It's been four days, four fucking days since Michael died. people tell me that he's here in spirit to make me feel better. it doesn't help, I can't fucking function at all.

I feel my bed shift, but continue to not exist. I stare at the thing that always reminded me of michael. whenever I felt alone, I would wear it. the day that Michael came to save me, I wore it.

"Demi, look at me.", Harry spoke.

A tear slid down my face and I tore my gaze from the sweater that Michael gave me. Harry's jade eyes meet mine, causing me to calm down a bit.

"I know that this is hard, but you haven't eaten in fours days.", concern laced Harry's voice.

"Yeah it's really difficult harry.", I cried. "he was more than some guy that I'd fuck when I was upset or lonely. you'll never understand."

"My out know what? you need to get ahold of yourself. I know that he's dead, but this is ridiculous.", Harry raised his voice.

"Fuck off.", I hissed.

"No, you sit in here for hours and do nothing but stare at that damn sweater." Harry screamed.

"Yeah, because I miss him. I could give a shit less about eating when his death was my fucking fault.", I sobbed.

Harry sat next to me and grabbed my hand. he held it in his and kissed it.

"Demi, this wasn't your fault.", he spoke.

"Yes it is. he never would've killed himself if I would've just killed myself at Christmas. I should've just done it.", I cried harder.

Harry cupped my cheeks. his Teary eyes stared into mine.

"This was not your fault.", Harry cried. "you have no idea how happy he was to have you. he was so happy that he got a chance."

"We have to get ready.", I sobbed.

"We don't have to go.", Harry suggested.

"No it's ok.", I wiped my eyes. "I want to go."

I stood and got in the shower. I changed into Michael's sweater, some black leggings, and black vans. I did my makeup and straightened my hair. my blue hair and eyes contrast really well with black.

"You ready?", Harry called.

Harry is wearing a black button up and black jeans with black converse. I nodded and followed him to his car. the drive was silent. we pulled up to the large cemetery and stepped out of the car.

I saw Ashton, Ed, Calum, and Luke standing in a crowd of various people, including reporters and camera men. this is ticking me off. when I'm upset, it's not a good idea to piss me off.

"What the fuck are they doing here?", I said loudly.

I walked up to one of the camera men and threw his camera on the ground. he probably didn't want his fucking funeral to have cameras and reporters everywhere.

The people around Michael's coffin turned their attention to me as well as the reporters and cameras. I'm livid right now.

"Get the fuck out of here! no one wants you here.", I shouted. "I'm talking to all of you fucks that would follow him around and tell lies about him. fuck off!", I shouted with angry tears streaming down my face. "do you think I'm joking or something? get the fuck out of here. you weren't invited, you have no right to be here."

Harry grabbed my arms and pulled me away from the reporter I was about to punch I wriggled in his grip and tried to lunge after the woman.

"Please get out of here, unless you want your head ripped off.", Harry said calmly.

They packed up and left. After each of the boys said a few words, it was my turn. I walked up to the stand and stared at the crying faces.

"Michael was my best friend.", I started, trying to keep a straight face. "he always knew how to make someone laugh or feel better when they were down.", tears started to stream down my cheeks. "He helped me through several struggles and I couldn't tell that he was depressed like me.", I'm sobbing now. "I could've saved him."

Harry stepped up and tried to take the mic and was successful. this is my fault. he may say otherwise, but it is my fault. I'm once again sitting here, with tears streaming down my face, staring into space. I don't exist.