Gone

I'm Going To Find Him

*Mike POV*

This wasn't fair.

I knew where he was.

A few months ago, Billie and I had been driving around, in a woodland area where it was secret and secluded. We were looking for spaces that were big enough for a show. We'd been driving for a while now, and I'm addicted to coffee so I started bugging Billie, claiming that I was going to die if I didn't have some caffeine.

He laughed at me, but we soon found a tiny coffee shop in the woods after driving for a while.

Unexpectedly, it had the best coffee I'd ever tasted.

Billie and I pledged to go back, and we even wrote down the name, which was simply 'Al's Coffee'. It was so simple that I remembered the name easily.

However a few weeks later, we discovered it had been closed down.

In my dream, Billie was being kept in Al's Coffee, and I was pretty sure my gut feeling is right, and he is there.

But yet here I am, lying in bed when I could be finding Billie.

The cops said I can't go, incase something bad happened to me too.

Screw them, I'm going.

I'm finding him.

I got out of bed and put Tré's hoodie on, shoving my feet into my sneakers and grabbing my keys.

I checked on Tré. He was still asleep.

I jogged to the car, starting it up and beggining the drive which I remembered well.

I remembered laughing with Billie, calling him my bitch when he agreed to get me coffee.

I should have appreciated him more.

I pulled up outside the now abandoned building. Getting out and shutting the door quietly, I mentally scolded myself for not bringing any defense weapon.

Good going, Michael.

I crept towards the door and opened it slowly.

The place was a mess.

The smell of old coffee still lingered in the air, and the pale wallpaper was peeling. The floor was scuffed and un-kept. The colorful posters on the wall had faded, some of them ripped and peeling. The tables were a mess, stained with coffee and dust.

I put the hem of Tré's hoodie over my nose and crept forward. I walked past a kitchen, which I really didn't want to look in. I tried all the bedrooms, each ones condition as bad as the main room, if not worse.

Maybe he wasn't here.

Maybe I just wanted to think that he would be.

I was about to give up, when I saw another door. I sighed and walked over, turning the door handle and slipping inside, before I could tell myself not to.

I walked down the stairs and tried not to cough in the dust. It was dark and I could barely see my hand in front of my face.

There was a familiar, uncomfortable smell.

Blood.

I saw a dark figure curled up.

Now knowing it was Billie, I ran over and shook him gently.

He covered his face in protection, as if by instinct.

"Billie it's me." I said. He looked up and saw me.

The guy was a mess.

His normally black, fluffy hair was greasy and sticking up. His piercing green eyes were now dull and had lost their shine. He had dark circles under each eye and was covered in dry blood.

Suddenly his eyes flickered with a new emotion.

Recognition.

He knew it was me.

He looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he pointed a shaky finger directly behind me.

Just like in the dream.

I waited for the cool steel of the gun to touch my temple.