Calls From The Toilet [DISCONTINUED]

To Be

"You know, I never would've thought I'd be answering your stupid, stupid question that you asked me so long ago." He laughed breathlessly. "I can't believe it has been already more than half a year since we began talking."

He blinked hard, staring out the window. "Well, here's your answer..." taking a deep breath he looked at Loretta's pale face and gave a weak smile.

"If I—"

The door slammed open and Aubrey came running in, tears staining her flawless brown skin. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it, I need to be here."

"No, it's alright, she's your sister, plus I can always come back later, you have a ride home right." Michael shoved his tattooed hands into his pockets and worried his lip ring.

"Yes. Thank you." Aubrey whispered, pale lips trembling.

"No problem." He shrugged, flashing a nonchalant grin before he strolled out, whistling.

His eyes were stinging, he didn't want to believe there was only a month left before he had to go. He had planned on going to Italy to study, one because his father had told him something from their past that should've been left untouched but now it's out in the open and his life is in danger and two because he wished to leave and travel somewhere he had never been to.

Maybe I should make a bracelet, for Lottie to remember me by should I leave before she wakes up. That brought him a little bit of hope, that maybe when she wakes up she'll remember him by the bracelet. Michael wouldn't allow him to think of the other possibilities that could happen.

A buzzing in his pockets drew him back from the dark abyss of his mind. He took his phone out of his pocket and answered, "hello?"

"Michael, you need to start packing. You are leaving in three weeks."

"Three weeks? Why?"

"They know."

"Darn you." Michael snarled, fists curling. He wanted to punch something, hard. Maybe even—no, he wouldn't allow himself to become like him, never, not now not ever. Even if it led to his death, he would never allow the dark river to overflow. He would keep it under control, no matter what his genes were made to otherwise do.

"I'm sorry, but it had to be done. Now begin packing, hopefully it stays three weeks. Ill let you know if it changes."

The silence afterwards kept him on his feet, his anger kept his spine straight, and his determination forced his mind to concentrate. No tears would be spilt, no sound would leave his mouth, he was going to walk out like nothing ever happened. But he would not pack, no, he would forget that conversation and only pack the day before.

Michael checks the time, it's been an hour, he would check on Loretta before visiting hours were up, for now, he would create a bracelet. Something that represented her.

He drove home in a flurry, not caring about the cars honking, not caring that he almost crashed. He needed to be home, three weeks was too short, though four weeks were short too, but three weeks to hope that she wakes up, three weeks to say his goodbyes. No! He would not think of it, no, not now. Right now he had stuff to do.

Parking his car horribly, he flung the door to the house open and tore his shoes off as he flew up the stairs, he could fix it later.

His mom's room should have the stuff he needed to make a bracelet, a thin strip of leather and beads. Preferably funky ones.

As he thought, he found them all inside a box of junk, shoved into a corner of her room.

Getting straight to work, he placed the beads on the strip of leather in order and after that, he took out a glitter glue thing and placed dots of them along the side of the leather. He also found a few dangly jewels that he knew his mom would never use and so he placed one on each end of the leather before tightening it up. He would find more things to add onto it later.

His phone rang again. Michael looked at the caller ID.

It was his father.