12 Months//michael clifford short story

april

       I woke up in the middle of the night. Alone. 

I looked around, guessing Michael had gone out with his friends once I had fallen asleep, or something. I was okay with it. 

That afternoon replayed itself in my head. 

Michael had ordered pizza. He had gotten paid a little from some small gig he had done in a bar the night before. We sat perched on the couch, which was full of newspapers and various items of clothing. The apartment was a mess. 

I remember mentioning thinking about going home for a bit. At least to see my parents. I didn't know how I would get the money, but I felt like I owed them. At least let them know I was okay.

I had said it cautiously. I was scared to see his reaction. I didn't want to upset him, so I said it slowly, testing each word.

"You want to leave me?" He asked. It sounded light hearted at first. 

"No!" I said quickly. I didn't want him to think that.

"Then why?" 

It quickly turned into an argument. I didn't see why it mattered to Michael anyways. I wasn't leaving him. I insisted this.

He brought up his parents again. He told me how his parents were never real parents. They sucked. And therefore, I guess he meant mine did too. 

He brought up mine and how they treated me badly. He told me them sheltering me for most of my life was a horrible way to bring up a kid. He told me I should just leave for awhile, until they realized how much they needed me. a

I was starting to see why his parents sucked. Maybe it was just Michael.

In the end, I was upset and went to take a nap, and when I woke up, he was gone. 

I really couldn't do this anymore. Michael had me convinced nobody else would take me, but I was willing to take that chance.

I couldn't help but think about how stupid he was. 

Stupid Michael, with his stupid disgusting black coffee, with his stupid cigarettes, and with his stupid hair. 

I resented him. And I hated that. I hated how I could resent the only person who was here for me. 

I ate a cold piece of pizza, and settled onto the couch, making plans inside of my head. I hoped he wouldn't be back for awhile.