✓ The Games We Play ⇔ Mileven {2nd - "Wake Up, Mike" Trilogy}

Eight

(That^ looks so good I want)
Hey guys! Merry early Christmas lol
Sorry guys, I had to split this chapter into two. It just wouldn't flow right if I continued on.
It's still really long!
It's also a complete roller coaster of emotions

DISCLAIMER: From this point on, there are a few mentions of throwing up that I wanted to warn people about. It's not many, but they're still there, so be cautious my fellow friends with emetophobia like me

Mike.

It's Christmas. My body naturally woke me up at about five in the morning, meaning I have about an hour until people start waking up. I looked outside at the falling snow and got a sad feeling. I'm not sure why I was sad, I think it just kind of happened. The snow tends to make me feel a bit down, which I've heard is common. Some people see snow and get excited, others get sad. It just depends.

It wasn't too long before I started to get antsy. It's only been about ten minutes, I have at least forty more before anyone wakes up. That in mind, I decided I would leave my room and try to occupy myself.

I got up and made sure my pants were at no risk of falling down, even though they never would be. I like to be cautious, I don't want people seeing my thighs. That would be very bad news.

I left my room and it was pitch black in the hallway, considering it's only after five in the morning. It doesn't get bright out until six during December, but I don't really mind.

-

Eleven.

I'd do anything to see some light. I'm starting to convince myself that I'm dead, there's nothing truly proving that I'm alive. Except pain, maybe. And hunger. I still feel those, so I guess I must be alive.

I wish I wasn't.

-

Mike.

The stairs creaked loudly as I walked down them, which angered me. The one time I need them to be quiet, they creak? They've never done that before. Maybe it's just my imagination and it isn't as loud as I think.

Walking through my house on Christmas morning is regular for me, I'm always the first to wake up. But things feel so weird this morning, I'm not sure why. Things feel different, I feel warm and fuzzy and...content.

I walked into the kitchen and immediately started making myself some hot chocolate, another thing that's regular for me. I'm a sucker for warm drinks, especially on Christmas morning...and every other day of the year. It can be ninety degrees out, I'm still making myself a warm drink. I deal with the sweating.

I looked at the clock and groaned. It's only been twenty minutes since I last looked. I have thirty minutes until I'm allowed to start making noise. I sighed, sipping at the hot chocolate carefully. It hurt, and I instinctively smiled a bit. Then I backtracked and frowned, starting to walk towards the basement stairs.

Honestly, what am I becoming? I'm sad El was taken, but that doesn't mean I should be happy when I feel pain. I honestly don't even know why I started hurting myself. I didn't see it anywhere, I don't think anyone else does it. I just saw Nancy's razor and got this weird feeling in my stomach. I picked it up and...I just kinda knew what to do, somehow. It was instinct.

That was the morning after she was taken. I woke up and expected her to be there, in my arms. She wasn't and I immediately broke down again. I hurried to the bathroom, though, I didn't want anyone hearing me. I got in the shower so I could cry freely, and that's when it happened.