Statistically In Love || m.c. -On Hold-

Two:

-----Michael's P.O.V:

I sat in my room with my headphones covering my ears. Green Day blasted through the speakers, leaving me in a solitude of punk rock. Today had gone surprisingly well.

No screaming, no hurt, no tears. All was good.

Well that was until I heard a knock at my door.

I hurriedly made my way to it, and opened to be knocked out of the way by my brother.

He stumbled to his bed, before collapsing face first onto it.

He let out a groan, then rolled over to his back.

His eyes were black, and his wrists red. His long black hoodie was stretched up his arm at this action, to reveal several spots of irritated skin.

Josh was back on meth, was all that I could think, as I took a seat back at the window.

I kept glancing over, but tried my best to not let him notice, but of course he did.

"What are you looking at faggot?" he asked harshly. I quickly turned away from him, and looked out the window.

But he didn't stop.

"You got something to say, just say it. Don't be such a pussy Michael. Now I understand why those pricks at school pick on you."

He got up, and left into the next room, which was the bathroom.

I looked down at my phone, then back up.

His words pierced my heart in such a way, that I couldn't really feel.

It was sort of numb.

These words are always spoken to me.

Does it really matter who it comes from?

It's all true. Just accept it Michael.

About that time I heard a car horn. Or some sort of horn.

I looked up to see a black SUV, pulled into the driveway of the house next door.

A few minutes later, a moving van pulled in behind it.

I watched an older boy get out of the car. Then a girl.

She looked my age. She had long red hair, and was wearing what looked to be a Fall Out Boy shirt.

I smiled at the sight. She took a few steps towards the house, as she starred at it in awe. Her red converse stood out in the mass pile of green leaves upon the ground.

Soon a woman, short, with curly red hair got out of the vehicle. She said something to the girl, then made her way to unlock the doors of the house.

I looked back to see the girl holding a younger lady. About five maybe. She had curly blonde hair. Like the boy.

They all stepped into the house. All off them came back out to unload the boxes from the moving van except for the red haired girl.

I watched as they unloaded box after box.

I waited to see the girl. I was waiting for her to come out of the house, but I was soon interrupted by mom calling me down stairs.

"Michael!" she yelled, oh so lady like.

I took off down the stairs to find mom sitting on the sofa, with yet another man. I had not seen the man before, just like all the other men she brings home.

But me knowing his name really didn't matter, because by tomorrow morning he would be gone, and she would be out to find, another man.

"Yes, ma'm?" I asked trying to to stare at the mans gritting smile, and rugged clothing.