before i die. » clifford.

0.3

0.3

|| m i c h a e l ||

 

Indianapolis is cold.

 

And I wasn't prepared for this temperature.  

 

It was middle of the night when I checked in the hotel.

 

Finding the room, I open the door and I immediately take off my shoes and jeans. Once I hit the bed, I began to snore.

.

.

 

It was nine in the morning when I woke up.

 

Immediately taking a shower, I changed quickly.

 

Calling a taxi, I was fully clothed and I was out of the hotel.

 

I hopped on the taxi and handed the address to the guy.

 

Few minutes later, we arrived to a big-looking hospital.

 

Paying him, I climb out of the taxi and walk to the hospital.

 

I wrinkle my nose when I smell the whirlwind of disinfected and disease.

 

I walked to the front desk, where a middle aged woman was typing on her computer. When she realized I was here, she looked up at me.

 

“May I help you?” She asks.

 

“I’m looking for Aspen Willows.”

 

The middle aged woman types the name on her computer and she replies, “Room 134. Go down the hall and make a right.”

 

I quickly thank her and was on my way. When I reached the room, I saw two people standing outside the door. They looked up at me and their worried faces brighten into happy smiles.

 

“Thank you for coming here in such short notice. You have no idea how much this means to us, to Aspen.” The woman says to me.

 

The woman gestured to the door, notifying me that it was time to make my appearance.

.

.

.

 

       || a s p e n ||

 

I was singing along to a song from the boys while Nurse Mackenzie was strapping a heart monitor around my arm.

 

I looked up when I heard the door handle twist. I expected to see my parents, but no, someone else walked through that door.

And that someone was Michael Clifford.

When I laid my eyes on him, for the first time not being on a computer screen, my heart literally skipped a beat.

 

And if you don’t believe me, ask everyone else in the room, who heard my heart monitor beep.

 

.

.

.

 || m i c h a e l ||

 

I walk into the small room, and peered at one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen.

 

I had expected a frail, dying little girl, but I was greeted with a black-haired, brown-eyed, pale-skinned teenager.

“You’re… Michael Clifford.”

++++

double update.

awwwww i really need a ship name for them.

ashael or michpen, they sound weird.

well it's like really hot right now, ew.

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