Runaway: a Michael Clifford fan-fiction

Chapter 5

WARNING: 

This chapter may make a few readers uncomfortable. Read at your own risk.

KARENA'S POV: 

I woke up early, confused as to when I even went to sleep. I had no memory of falling asleep the night before. The last I remember was having a Q&A with Michael. I look beside me, thinking Michael would still be fast asleep. Where was he? I got up slowly, my legs feeling really heavy. And went in search of Michael. First, I checked the kitchen. He wasn't there. Next, I checked the living room, still no luck. I then began strolling the halls and looking into each room, in hope that he would just be in a different room trying to find something.

I walked though and checked every room. Michael was still nowhere to be found. I went back to Mikey's room, thinking that he just left the house to run errands. But, when I peeked out of the window, the car was still parked out front. After a few minutes, I decided to go shower. I searched though my new clothing and decided to wear the black lace dress Michael had picked out for me. Dresses weren't my favorite thing to wear, but I decided to wear it simply because he had picked it out himself.

I headed to the bathroom door. The light was on, so I knocked. There was no reply, so I tried to open the door. It opened about six inches, but stopped. There must be a towel or something in the way, I thought. I sucked my gut in, squeezing through the gap. I gaped in complete and utter shock. Oh. My. God.

Michael was laying on the ground, absolutely naked. The only thing even slightly covering him was a towel which was thrown sloppily over his junk. He was unconscious. I dropped the clothes I was holding and quickly ran over to him, laying my head onto his chest. Thank the Lord, I could hear a faint pulse. I checked his abdominal area, legs, and arms for cuts or gashes. He didn't seem to have anything wrong with him. I didn't know what to do. Should I call someone? I probably should, but the only phone I saw was Michael's and i had no idea where he left it. It could be anywhere in this huge house. Should I drive somewhere to find help? No, that would take to long to round someone up and bring them back here. I was panicking, feeling completely helpless when I got the idea to drive Michael to the hospital myself. I realize you're not supposed to move someone if you don't know what injuries they have, because it could cause further damage. But, I couldn't just leave him here. 

But how, exactly am I supposed to drag him all the way to the car. Not only that, but he was completely naked. I thought for a moment. I guess the only reasonable solution was to dress him myself. I ran out of the room, looking for something easy to slip him into. I decided that a shirt wasn't mandatory, since putting a top on him would take far too long. I did however grab a pair of baggy grey sweatpants to put on him. 

I kneel beside him, thinking of the best way to approach this. This is by far the most awkward situation I have ever been involved in. I thought about it and decided the best way to put his pants on would be to stop being such a child and just put his pants on. I mean, I am 17 years old for crying out loud. It's not like I haven't seen a penis before. 

I brace myself, and tug at the corner of the towel. It slides off revealing his long shaft. My eyes widen at how big it really is. I tugged his pants on quickly, feeling guilty. I felt as though I was betraying him and digging into his privacy. I stand up, dragging him by his feet all the way to the stairs. I look down thinking how in the hell I was going to get him down there. And then a thought flashes into my brain. I run to his room and quickley grab a couple of pillows and his blanket. I place the blanket on the stairs, acting as though it were a sled. I placed Michael on top of the blanket, putting the pillows underneath his head so that his head wouldn't be clunking down the stairs. I push him gently, his body sliding slowly down the staircase. I smiled. I am a genius.