simply tired

chapter four

the next two weeks went pretty similar to that.

Luke would pick up Michael in his truck every morning, and they would go to school. they would go their separate ways, then see each other in english, and then go about their own days, and then Luke would drive Michael home. the whole situation was actually really good for Michael, because he was finally being able to talk to someone comfortably again.

Michael knew that when Luke said that he could text him whenever he needed something, that he meant it. Michael usually judged people well, and he was able to tell that Luke was a really good guy, and that he wouldn't do anything to hurt Michael.

he had been having a good week, it was surprisingly the happiest that he had felt in a long time. it was difficult because he really liked Luke- a lot. however, he ignored these feelings because he finally didn't feel too alone.

when the next Friday came, Luke texted Michael and told him that he wouldn't be able to drive him to school. he had to go in early to retake a math test, so he went in really early,that way he'd have a long enough time to finish it. he thought that it was strange that Michael didn't answer him back, but he just assumed that his phone was off. yet, he thought that it was even more strange when Michael didn't show up to school. so he assumed that he was sick.

little did he know, that Michael was crawled up underneath his covers, because in the middle of the night, Michael had been woken up by his mom storming into his room. she yelled at him in a drunken rage about how it was his fault that his father was in prison, even though all he did was tell his school counselor that he was lonely. his dad was never around, and the counselor was suspicious and the police were called. apparently it was his fault that Michael's father had been addicted to heroine and even selling it, which got him four years in prison.

his had mom thrown his blanket off of him and slapped him in the face. he had scooted back into the corner and just curled his knees up to his chest and sat there until she stopped yelling. when she finally left him alone to cry himself to sleep, and he just wound up crying for hours until he felt like he had no more tears in his body to cry out.

so Michael didn't get out of bed when his alarm went off, and he didn't get up when he heard his text tone, and he definitely didn't get up when he heard the front door open and close, which signaled that his mom left the house.

he just stayed under his tear stained black comforter for what must have been hours. he eventually heard knocks on his front door and he knew it wasn't his mom, so who could it have been?

that question answered itself when he heard a familiar low, yet comforting voice call out his name and it accured to him that his mom was probably too hungover to remember to even lock the fucking door.

what made him even more disappointed, is that she wasn't even able to come and apologize for her actions. yet again, she probably doesn't even remember what she did that night, and that makes the entire situation a million times more pathetic.

he heard several doors around his room being knocked on and then his door was knocked on. he heard his name, and all he could manage to do was grunt, his own voice echoing under the covers. he heard his door being opened, and a few footsteps on his carpet, before he felt a warm body crawling up next to him. the figure slid under the covers so that Michael's back was pressed to them and he turned around, met with bright blue eyes full of worry.

Michael's heart seemed to tighten in his chest,
"Luke?"

the boy didn't answer, he just wrapped his arms around Michael's middle and let Michael's head rest on his chest. all that Michael could hear was Luke's quiet heartbeat, and all Luke could smell, was the faint smell of dried blood from Michael's wrists. Michael wasn't even aware that he had scratched and reopened them during his breakdown. Luke sighed and was filled with the need to hold Michael closer.