Coming Clean

Michael explains his predicament, but no one believes him. He decides it now or never to make a life changing decision and leave everything behind.

     "For the past week or so, i've been having dreams where i'm in a dark alley being chased by these....strange men. They keep chasing me, and they never stop. I run and run and then I come to a four-way intersection. I become sorrounded by the same strange looking man, but there are hundreds of them. They never seem to end and they begin to attack me. I wake up and feel pain on some part of my body. When I look down, there is always a line of blood somewhere. They cut me...in my dreams....and I awake with actual wounds!" Michael explained. John just stared, it was obvious he did not believe what he heard. "Your kidding me, right? I mean come on. Dreams leaving cuts on you, your a cutter aren't you. Your a goddamn emo and your lying about it!" John replied. He then walked away from his previously best friend to return to his seat. Michael couldn't believe what John had said. He hadn't believed him. This was the most pain he'd ever felt.

 

    Michael drove back to his house in silence. He was on the verge of crying. Nothing had hurt that bad before. His best friend had told him that he was an emo and that he was lying about the truth. As he approached his house, he saw Sarah's car in his driveway. "S**t!" He swore as he pulled in. As he entered the house, he heard his mom talking to Sarah. "speaking of which, Michael, come in here please!" His mother called. He approached the kitchen and looked in. John and Sarah were sitting at the table with his mother. "Michael, come sit down." His mother said, gesturing to a seat. Michael stood frozen in fear. "Mike...is everything ok?" Sarah asked. She had seen the look of horror on his face. He stood at the kitchen door, staring. John sat staring blankly, Michael's mother had small streaks of mascara down her cheeks from crying most likely and Sarah had a look of worry painted upon her face that made Michael's heart sink. "John...why...how...how could you?" He stammered. "Mike...this is serious. You need to see a doctor for your cutting." John returned to him, not moving his stair, no emotions shown. "I'm not cutting!" Michael retaliated. he was furious hat his best friend had done this. "How do you explain those cuts all over yourself then?" John replied. He still did not show any emotion. "It's the dreams!" Mike yelled. "BULLSHIT!" John said, getting angry. "Mike...this isn''t like you...whats wrong?" Sarah asked. Her eyes pleaded for an answer. "I swear to you, i'm NOT cutting!" Michael yelled. his voice shook with fear and anger. The three people at the table stared at him. it was obvious none of them believed him. He walked out of the kitchen and went to his room.

 

    Late that night, Michael put the last of his most important belongings in bags and packed them in his car. He grabbed his keys and jumped into the driver's seat. He had one thing in mind...to get away, far away. Michael's job had earned him a good amount of money and he really didn't spend it. He had saved up birthday money, christmas money, and his paychecks and had saved up over five thousand dollars. It wasn't much, but it was enough to rent an apartment and graduate high school. He would work whenever he could and would keep his payments on time as best he could. It would be hard, but he needed to get away.

 

     Days went by. No one had heard from Michael since that day. John became distant, Sarah's boyfriend broke up with her because she was depressed and he couldn't handle it. Michael's mother cried almost non stop and she waited by the phone constantly for a phone call that would give her closure. She knew Michael had run away, all his stuff was gone and so was his car. He had left no note, no phone calls, nothing. She was torn up and could barely work. It took all she had not to abuse drugs and go insane. Michael's father stayed away from home pretty much all the time. He worked harder than any man should. It took constant work to keep his mind off his son. Though they never spent too much time together, Michael was his only son and he was very important to the older man. He needed a man at the house to watch over his wife while he worked. Times were hard and so he worked frequently, pulling overtime whenever he could. He bought home a good pay, but he had a smoking addiction and that cost alot to keep. he knew his addiction to tobacco was a bad thing, but he couldn't stop. Life had become more difficult now that his wife was tormented and his son was missing. Life had become hell.

 

     A small, one-room apartment had become Michael's home. He had begun keeping a journal. In it, he wrote every single thought, dream, or emotion he felt. He filled at least a page a day. He had become obsessed with these dreams. he would take notice of small things, tiny details that no one should care about, and he wrote them in his journal. His schoolwork was done quick and sloppy but it was good enough to pass. He did his best to keep his grades up and work as much as he could. He still had most of his money in the bank. expenses were kept low and income was as high as possible for a teenager in high school. Most nights Michael awoke in a cold sweat with another cut on his body. He tried his best to stop noticing the cuts, because they were small and non life threateniing, but the scars they left were making him seem disgusting to look at. He had bought a weight bench for his aparrtment and worked out daily. It was his only escape from his fears. As long as he was keeping busy, he could remove his mind from from what was happening around him and make a self induced state of calm for himself. It never lasted loong, but it was enough.

 

Reviews

[Christine T]

Its really good.I'm glad your writing it. see i told you it would be good. ;)