Don't Call Me 'Son' (Jeff the Killer Fanfic) [2nd Place in Jeff the Killer 2016]

Chapter 5

A Month Later

For what seemed like a long time, Michael decided that he would return to the mural he made.

After his mother's death, he had not bothered to touch it. It was a sad reminder of what he had dreamed. The image of his sleeping mother was a silly hope that he would see her again, to hold her warmth in his very hands. A ridiculous wish that consumed him even to this day.

Standing there in bitter silence, his classmates bustled around him to ready their supplies. His teacher murmured to a student on what to do next on their project, and a few classmates shot a glance over at Michael in his rigid state.

Michael really did not want to continue his project. He knew that his grade depended on it, but...

Of all people, why did I choose her. Michael asked himself.

Michael clenched his hand around the handle of his supplies, his dark rimmed eyes burning holes on the cloth that covered his masterpiece. In truth, he knew why he chose her. He knew why he decided to draw her form, his memory of her, into real life.

He wanted to see her.

Not from his memories, not from his dreams. He wanted to see her in front of him, where he could caress her cheek or look into her eyes.

He just wanted to see his mommy...

Suddenly, a hand was placed on his shoulder, snapping him from his somber thought train.

Michael slowly lifted his eyes to find a man in his mid thirties. HIs art teacher.

"You can always move on to another project, you know," His teacher said sympathetically.

Michael dropped his gaze solemnly and loosened the hold he had on his supplies, his fingers starting to hurt. Any other day, he would have agreed. Michael had been doing that for a while now. Doing different art styles made it easier for him to not look at what he had created. He would have moved onto watercolor today, watercolor being something he was awful at.

But...

"I can't," Michael stated, his hair obscuring his eyes. His voice dropped to a low whisper, his ears invaded by the distant yet close noise of water. "I can't... run from this anymore..."

His teacher pursed his lips hesitantly, his eyes darting around Michael's face before he gave Michael a final pat on the back and turned to help another student. "Just don't get yourself in a muck, all right?"

Michael cracked a smile, the action not reaching his eyes at all.

"I won't..." Michael bent down on one knee and opened the supply box, his smile wavering as he scattered his chalk on the floor to make it accessible. "I promise."

After his teacher was gone, Michael let his smile drop and his somber expression return, his blue eyes focused on the challenge ahead of him. Ever since childhood, Michael knew he had a hard time lying. It was easier to stay quiet, not allowing anything to affect you. But now that he had made progress with Jake to get out of his shell, he felt that if he became quiet again Jake would be disappointed.

Not that he ever would though. That pathetic sod...

And just like that night when his mother was found dead, Michael had a hard time even moving, his fingers trembling as he tried to pull off the cover.

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It had been a full month without fun. A full month without the kids, and a full month without having her by his side....