Glass Hearts

Chapter 9:

Chapter 9:

It didn't hit me until now that it was only 7 days away.

7 days until Michaels 3 year anniversary.

After my talk with Calum, I went back to my room and hid under the covers, curling up into a ball and focusing on the sound of the rain that was beginning to beat against the windows.

I didn't know what to do

Today it really hit me.

That I was being selfish. I was hurting Luke, seeing him so defeated made me feel so fucking awful. He was my best friend, and I was tearing him apart.p

And Calum?

I made him so miserable that he turned bitter.

Maybe it would be better if I just left.

They would forget about me.

Michael and I would be no more than a memory to them.

Luke would marry Hannah

And Calum would marry Analiya

And they would be happy together.

And they would forget all about Michael

And all about me.

***

I eventually fell asleep, and Michael was sitting at the edge of my bed. His shirt still smoothly draped across his shoulders, and his hair still sticking up the way it always did.

That's how he looked when he died.

The red and black hair.

His body finally becoming the way he wanted it to be.

That was when he was 18

He would have been almost 21 now.

"Michael. Why did you show me that?"

He didn't respond.

"Michael!" I snapped, making him turn away, his lip quivering.

The thing that always scared me about these dreams was how real they were.

It's like Michael was still alive.

But it was just my mind playing tricks on me.

Or maybe it was his way of trying to talk to me.

Either way, they thought I was crazy.

"Mikey, please. Why did you want me to see that?"

He got up, walking over to where I was laying and grabbed my hand, pulling me next to him.

"Mikey-"

"Just trust me okay?" He said desperately.

"Okay."

"And by the way, I do like your new haircut. It reminds me of what we had."

"When you were alive?" I snarled

"Yeah." He looked down, his mouth forming into a small, reminiscent grin.

And without saying anything else, he squeezed my hand and led me out the door.

~~~

As soon as we stepped out of the room, it wasn't the Michael I knew. Instead, it was the Michael I saw last night.

He looked a bit older, a little bit taller with a little more hair, and his face was more filled out.

"Mikey?" I asked

And then I realized that he couldn't respond.

Oh yeah.

Why?

No idea.

Just like last night, he left, showing me another scene.

It was a different house now. Michael sitting on the couch, surrounded by a few presents and streamers and party things thrown about. And a cake in the middle with big candles that had 11 on it.

"Open your presents Mikey." His mom prodded, sitting on the opposite couch.

He picked out the biggest one first, it was an odd shape that wasn't wrapped very well, but he could care less.

"You got me a guitar!?!" He exclaimed.

His first acoustic.

He had that guitar for years.

"I know you've always wanted one." She smiled. "Now open the others."

There were only 3 presents, so he picked the next biggest.

It was a video game. Of course

And after a few minutes of him explaining how he's wanted this game for years, he tore open the next one.

It was a picture frame.

With a family photo of Michael and his parents in the middle.

And as soon as his eyes landed on his dad, he started to cry.

"It was the last photo I ever took with dad." He surveyed it, his fingers coming in contact with the glass as he ran it across his fathers photo.

He hugged his mom tight, he looked so small and helpless.

They stayed that way for a minute, and eventually the scene changed again.

It went by fast, from the time he was 11 to 13. Just images of him being shoved into lockers and tripped in the halls. Kids calling him fat and throwing food at him in the cafeteria.

His mother grew more and more distant with him. She started drinking, coming home drunk every night, throwing things and threatening Michael.

And what hurt more than anything was the look on his face.

Every time she would cry, scream or throw things, he would just nod. His eyes filled with sadness and his lips pressed into a frown before he would lock himself in his room.