Sincerely, Michael

5

A/N: I'm putting a trigger warning for this chapter cause I'm gonna be delving more into Michael's illness and I don't want to accidentally upset someone

He knew what was happening as soon as he woke up. It was 4:30 in the morning and still dark out. Michael only ever woke up this early on his bad days. He sat up in bed and sighed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He was up now, might as well get out of bed. 

Michael quietly made his way out of his room and down to the kitchen. Biting down on his lip, he opened the fridge and scanned the shelves for something to eat. But it was really no use, he just wasn't hungry. It was one of those days.

When Michael had his episodes, there were usually two different ways it went. He was either really hungry or not hungry at all. Usually his mother made him eat a little something for his meds so they wouldn't upset his stomach. 

He sighed and pulled out a carton of pineapple orange juice. He should at least have something to drink. Sitting at the center island he poured himself a glass of juice and took a sip. Michael really did hate these days. The boy had no energy or motivation to do really anything. 

Michael rested his cheek on his fist, taking another sip of his juice. He could try and talk his mother into letting him stay home from school, but it was no use. The boy was already wracking up absences. Anymore and his mother would get in trouble with the school. Damn education system. They only really care about the money, not about the kids.

Getting up from the counter, he walked over to the medicine cabinet and pulled out the bottle of pills labeled SSRI. He took two out of the bottle and picked up his glass, placing the pills on his tongue and swallowing them down with the juice.

"one of those days?"

Michael glanced to see his mother standing there. He nodded, setting his glass down on the counter. His mother gave him a smile, kissing his hair.

"one day at a time darling"

**********************************

Michael closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat. He was in the middle of English class and the kid behind him was about to really set him off with his constant tapping on his desk. He bit down on his lip and opened his eyes when the boy finally decided to stop.

 He picked up his pencil and began to work back on his essay. He was half way through his fifth paragraph, deep into explaining the message behind the music of his favorite artist, yungblud, when it started again. That damned drumming on the desk behind him. 

Michael slammed his pen and turned around to face a curly headed boy. He glared at him, snatching the pencils from his hands. 

"CAN YOU FUCKING STOP?"

"Michael Clifford!"

Michael groaned and flung his notebook, standing up from his desk and storming out of the class. He ran all the way to the bathroom and locked himself in a stall, sliding down the wall. He closed his eyes, feeling his lip begin to quiver.

"damn it" He swore, wiping away the tears that began to flow down his cheeks. He didn't mean to snap at the boy, he just couldn't take the tapping anymore and the bad days made him so irritable. 

Michael sniffled, ripping off a piece of toilet paper from the roll on his head. He sighed, hearing footsteps coming into the bathroom. 

"Michael?"

He bit his lip, wondering whether or not he should answer. It was probably someone come looking for him so the teacher could call his mother.

"I know you're in here, I saw you run in here"