0.0 - michael

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0.0 - michael

Michael laid in his bed, the dinosaur-print sheets were covering his body tightly, wrapped all the way to his neck. He was sweating as his head pounded on, it felt like a hurricane was devastating all of his nerves. 

His left hand kept flinching and he just wanted to sleep, but sleep would not come. His mother figured it was time for his first tattoo, he was around the age where it’d be inked on his skin the second he closed his eyes for sleep.
Michael was a stubborn child, refusing to believe that the first tattoo would appear on his body once he lay to rest. He always figured the odds applied to him, that he’d be the first in the world to watch the small engraving pierce through his tiny, pale wrists. 

The dirty blonde five year old wasn’t sure soulmates really existed. He jumped off the roof last week, he wondered if his soulmate felt the pain, saw the purple swell up around his kneecap. He wanted to know if maybe the stupid person on the other side of his soul would send something back, leaving a mark on the skin to say hey, I’m here

He rolled over, his legs thumping the plain white wall. He clenched his jaw and scrunched his eyes close tightly as the sudden pain rose from his right knee through his entire body. 

Michael opened his florescent green eyes, staring at the ceiling above him. He blinked a few times, letting a few breaths leave his mouth. 

He shut his eyes once more, keeping them closed this time. 

Hours passed, the only sound filling the rectangular room were soft snores and a ticking clock. 

Under the itchy sheets lay Michael’s hand, a freshly printed L on the inside of his wrist. Clue number one.

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