Chapter Nineteen - Nightmares.

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(Scott's POV)

I rang Kirstie the day after and she told me that she still didn't know where Mitch was. She asked everyone, but nobody knew. I just hope he's okay.

"Any luck?" Steve asked, and offered me a cigeratte. I gladly took it and shook my head.

"No. I'm really worried, Ste." I sighed.

"It's okay, kid. I'm sure he's okay."

"Hopefully."

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I haven't been to sleep these last few nights. Call me crazy, but that dream about Michael, it haunts me. It feels like if I fall asleep, the dream will come back, or even worse, Michael will come back.

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"Where am I?" I opened my eyes. I was in a small room. And when I say small, I mean small. And being claustrophobic doesn't help.

"Oh good, you're awake." I turned my head to see Michael, holding a rope in his hand. "Move, and I'll pull this rope." The rope was wrapped loosly around my neck. I also had a one tied around my arms and legs, preventing me from moving. "If I pull it, it'll strangle you to death. So it's your choice really." He smirked.

"Why are you doing this?" I whispered. He knelt down beside me.

"Because Scott." He tightened his grip on the rope. "You shot me. And nobody gets away with that."

"Michael, you don't know what you're doing. You're messed up! Look, if you let me go, I can take you to a therapist, and you can get help an-"

"NO! I don't need help, I'm perfectly fine."

"No you're not. You're unhappy, I can tell." He shook his head, a tear sliding down his cheek.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I'm sorry." He pulled the rope, before grabbing a loaded gun from his pocket, and putting it to his head.

*BANG*

Murder suicide.

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I woke up, breathing heavily and sweaty. I knew I shouldn't have chanced it, I knew I shouldn't have fell asleep.

"You okay, kid?" Steve asked, handing me a cigeratte.

"Yeah." I sighed. "When's breakfast?"

"You missed it. So did I. I couldn't just leave you though, you were talking in your sleep and shit, I was worried you know?" He looked down at his hands. "You remind me of my son. He was always worried about everything." I smiled.

"Where is he now?"

"He joined the army. Ever since a lil' boy, he's wanted to 'save the world'. He didn't last very long though, he..." He didn't finish his sentence. He didn't cry, but I could tell he was upset.

"It's okay, Ste." I sat down next to him. He sighed.

"Yeah well, you're all I have in this shit hole, and I'm all you have, so let's stick by each other, yeah?"

"Yeah"

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"What the fuck is this shit?" I looked down at my tray. It was lunch time, and they'd served up some brown slop with broccoli. It looked vile. "Are you sure it's edible?"

"It's some sorta stew." Steve laughed, and tucked in.

"There's no way I'm eating the broccoli. I hate it." I mumbled.

"Hey, you always told me I had to eat my veggies, therefore you have to eat yours!" I turned around and my eyes met the hazel brown ones I once fell in love with.

"Mitch?"

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