I believe it had been 30 minutes now. He was all bandaged up and covered with multiple blankets. He was soaking wet. His hair was flat down around his head as there was a hot washcloth on his forehead. When he passed out he must of had hit his head on the edge of the rail. He had a little cut near his eyebrow.
He was awake now but he was still cold.
"Michael. You need to give us your parents number. We need to call your folks." My brother tried to convince Michael to give him his house phone number.
"I'm telling you I can't!" Michael called back.
"Why not?" I was concerned.
"I just can't. Im sorry." he closed his eyes.
"Why not?" We needed to let his parents know how he was doing.
"They aren't here." He opened his eyes.
"Like at work or something?"
"No." He faced the ceiling now.
"Then where?" I was getting pissed.
"Standing next to your parents."
"What? That's impossible because my parents are d...."
Then it sank in.
My face burned a hot embarrassment red. Jordan just stood there looking at me.
"I...I'm really sorry. If you would've told me earlier..... I'm sorry Michael." I couldn't get the words out fast enough to make a proper sentence.
There was an awkward silence in the room. Me, sitting on my knees in front of a broken Michael laying on the couch.
My brother standing on the other side of the couch; facing me from the other side.
Everyone was quiet.
My stomach hurt. It felt like someone was twirling spaghetti in my stomach. The room started to spin. Thinking about death and parents at the same time made me go sick. I can't believe I hurt this boy that much. Black spots appeared everywhere. I felt like I was going to throw up. I faced the floor for some relief. I closed my eyes.
"I like your hair." i heard that raspy tired accent. I looked up and made instant eye contact.
"What?" I was confused on whether he had actually saying that.
"Your hair. It looks good." he lifted his hand and reached for my head. He grabbed a now dry fuzzy mess.
"No. My hair is horrible. I hate my hair." I pushed his hand away.
"It's like you have wool as hair. " he smiled and said in between chuckles.
I smiled at his stupid comment. I heard Jordan laughing at how right he was.
My hair wasn't the best. Not even close to being fine. When it was wet I liked it. But when it was dry, it became the worlds biggest fuzz ball.
I just than realized that the room had stopped spinning and the dots had gone away.
All because of Michael and his cheesy yet dumb comments.
"Okay. Who wants take out Chinese?" I said with a smile. I had honestly cheered up.
They both agreed to the option considering that it was basically dinner time.
"I'll go pick it up. I gotta go pick up Natt anyway. " He grabbed his keys and patted Michael on the head as he did the same with me.
"You two stay out of trouble you hear?" He pulled his heavy jacket over his shoulders as he waited for us to answer.
"No promises." Michael chuckled as he started to get the blankets off of him.
Jordan chuckled and walked out of the house slamming the door behind him. Letting a drift of cold fall air rush threw the room.
Michael swung his legs over the edge of the couch and sat up.
"Hey. Are you sure you are ready to get up?" I said resting my hands on his knees.
"Yeah yeah. I'll be fine. A little blood lose and a bang on the head won't phase me." He chuckled and got up. He seemed fine.
"See I'm f.." then he stubbled as he tried to take another step. I grabbed his side.
"Yeah and I see that you aren't okay." I giggled and helped him back onto the couch where he should've stayed in.
"Mother knows best." He jokingly said as he sat back down.
"Are you sure you are going to be ok? Do we need to take you to the hospital or something?" I was concerned. He could be suffering from a concussion or worse.
"Yeah. I'll tell you when I start to feel nauseous mom."
We talked about random stuff. Mostly him commenting my hair and him telling me how good I would look with the dye.
"The purple will really bring out your eyes. Them green eyes. They are amazing." I blushed at the compliment.
"Shut up. You are only saying that because you are going to be the one doing it." I laughed and got up from sitting on the floor.
"Where are you going?" Michael looked worried. I saw it in his eyes.
"To go pee. Wanna come?" I sarcastically invited him to the little adventure.
"Sure." I heard him attempting to get up.
"Michael! Sit down. You are going to hurt yourself." I laughed out.
"Geez. Party Pooper." He mumbled and sat down. He crossed his arms and pouted like a 3 year old.
I walked to the bathroom. Passing my bedroom. The event from this morning flew into my mind. Dancing. Jumping. Have Fun. I smiled at the memorable moment.
I went and did my business. I saw Michaels bracelets on the counter from earlier.
I picked them up and walked out of the bathroom.
"You know this is how you lose things right?" I said out loud and turned the corner to see no one on the couch.
"Michael?! Where did you go?!" I yelled. Worry rushed threw my body.
I rushed over by the couch. Not there. Into the kitchen. Not there.
"Where the fuck did he go?" I whispered to myself.
I went back into the hall and looked in my room. I flicked the switch on. No one.
I walked over to Jordan's room. No one.
Then thats when I realize that the door to the end of the hall was wide open.
My moms room.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl With Purple Hair [M.C.]Random
Lizabeth Coulain. An outcast no one knows. Michael Clifford. A rebel no one forgets. TRIGGERING!: SELF HARM BULLYING ETC. DO NOT TAKE MY STORY SERIOUSLY! I LOVE YOU