The Light

Michael wakes up in a hospital. Will his once peaceful life ever return to the way it once was?

     A bright light was all that Mike could see as he attempted to look around. The light is blinding and Mike tries to look away but no matter what way he looks, he cannot escape it. It lets off a warm glow that feels heavenly. "Wait...no...it can't be! Am i...d-d-dead...?" Mike asked into the light. "No Michael. This is an out-of-body experience." The familar and evil voice resounded. "What happened?" Mike asked back. "I did. You thought you could get rid of me, but you can't. A simple priest has NOTHING on me. Nothing will stop me, Michael. Your fate is sealed with me." The voice repied. An evil laugh followed by a flash of darkness coming from the light. The dark vortex swallowed him and he awoke in a hospital bed. His body shook frantically and a nurse came charging in to slow his heart rate slightly. The only sound he could make was a pain-filled scream that you could feel the agony and defeat in. He had lost the battle against the demon within himself and he had to live with his torment.

 

     "Mike, mike, wake up!" A voice he couldn't recognize called. He awoke in the same room. His body shook slightly but it stopped soon after. He opened his eyes and looked around. Sitting up, he felt a shot of pain and dropped down to the bed screaming and cringing in pain. "Shhh, you have to stay down Mike." The voice said lightly to him. He looked to the source. Sarah sat there with her right arm in a cast and a large bandage taped to her cheek. She was bruised and beaten but still smiled lightly at him. "Sarah...what...what happened?" He asked her in a hoarse whisper. "A car hit us. Well...more or less it hit you. You were the only one on the side of the truck that was hit. You took the blunt force of the crash and then the airbag s went off. That's what did this..." She said, lifting her right arm up. "How bad is it?" He asked her. "Well...you have one hell of a scar on your cheek and your really bruised up...and that's not mentioning the three broken ribs, and your arm is broken in two places. You probably bruised up your insides a good bit too." She repled to him. Mike looked down at himself and saw he was bandaged all over and large parts of his skin were black and blue.

 

     Mike slowly recovered from his injuries over time. Sarah was always there with him, but most of the time he pushed her away. He didn't talk to her, didn't think of her, just thought about his life. "Nothing will ever be the same, you know?" Mike told Sarah one night. "I know...but at least we have eachother, right?" Sarah replied to him. "I don't know..I just...don't know..." He said, looking away. "What do you mean you don't know? You promised we'd be together when this was over!" She said, staring at him. "It's not over, Sarah. It's never going to be over!" Mike said back, still looking away. "What are you talking about?" She asked, her voice cracking and frantic. "He...or...it, is still in me. Nothing we can do will make him go away. I'm going to be stuck with him until I can;t take it anymore or when I die." Mike said, once again not looking at her. "Mike...please tell me your joking. PLEASE!" Sarah begged, tears coming to her eyes. "I wish I was, Sarah. Dear god I wish I was." he said, finally looking at her. "So...why can;t we be together?" She asked through tears. "Because I don't want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. If that means I have to leave this town and never see or talk to you again...then so be it." Mike said, looking away again. Sarah cried and left the room in tears. Mike couldn't hold back his own tears. He cried for hours straight, it seemed like he'd never stop, but eventually he physically couldn't cry anymore.

 

     When Mike returned home there was a welcome home party. He simply walked in and walked straight past everyone, unblinking, and went to his room where he slammed the door shut and locked it. Many of his friends tried to talk to him but all they got in reply was a blatant "F**k off" and the music blaring back up again. Mike also began wearing all black. His mother tried to force light colors on him, but he merely took them out back and burned them. He ceased showing emotions, all his music was depressing, everytime he sang his mother broke out crying. He wrote depressing things on his walls, wrote songs about hating life, and playing dark, depressing tunes. He distanced himself from his friends, stopped talking in school, his grades slipped, and everyone was worried. Nothing anyone did could do anything for his tormented and depressed state of mind.