Contains blood, mentions of abuse and depressive themes!

August 11th 1983.

I slammed the front door shut, closing with a bang. I slipped off my shoes quickly and made my way upstairs, grumbling under my breath.

By the time I had reached home, it was pouring with rain again. The water droplets tapping loudly on my windows, creating a dull atmosphere in my room.

I sat down on my bed with a sigh, staring into completely nothing. I was thinking. Everything had happened so fast. I couldn't function properly, everything was good with Michael but now... it was all a mess.

How could the smallest incident change my entire view towards Michael?

After what I witnessed happen with Brian, I was really debating whether Michael was actually safe to be around in the first place. Wherever he was learning his actions, wherever he thought that bad was good, it had to be stopped before anything more outrageous happened.

First it was his brothers death, now a huge fight that could end him in jail?

It didn't make much sense. I couldn't blame it on him, not entirely at least. It was obvious Michael had grown up in an abusive household and was still living in one but that didn't mean he had to act like that, he knew what he was doing even if he claims that he didn't do it on purpose. I was so easily manipulated.

Everything had a purpose. Who the hell was gonna tell him that?

Something in the deep of my heart ached however, the more I thought of hurting Michael, the more it hurt me. I didn't want to hurt Michael's feelings but I already did. Maybe I was too dramatic? I was screaming at him like a mother did. I was so worried for our future that I completely forgot about my own actions.

Michael picked up a fight with anyone but why did I mind it so much? Was I jealous? Was I jealous that Michael literally gave other girls the same attention as he did to me?

But then, Michael literally got blood on his hands for me again just because his friend had said something wrong about me.

That was something I wasn't going to understand.

And I didn't want to.

I was angry at Michael, my blood was boiling. Or was I? I was mad at him, I was mad because he treated me like other girls but then became overly protective, I was mad because he was argumentative, because he was acting like an asshole again.

The ping of pain in my heart didn't stop, it became more painful, digging through the depths of my chest, leaving a lump in the back of my throat.

I grabbed a polaroid photo of the two of us from my side table, clutching it tightly in my fingers.

We were so happy. We were sitting around a campfire, my head in Michael's lap, staring up at him. Michael was smoking as usual but he was smiling, I was smiling. I missed that.

I wanted to forgive him, I wanted to tell him that everything was okay and that I still wanted to be with him but I just couldn't. His actions were something I couldn't deal with. He was going to have to deal with them on his own.

Everything was so confusing, so irritating, so stupid.

I didn't realise my fingers had started to tear up the photo, pieces floating down onto my carpet. I didn't realise heavy tears had started to drift down my cheeks, loud sobs escaping my mouth uncontrollably.

So stupid.

I buried my head in my hands, not even attempting to quiet my wailing.

I was mad at so many little, stupid reasons. I was mad at Brian. I was mad at Michael. I was mad at myself.

It just made no fucking sense!

All these little things, they all scrambled with my brain. It mixed with my emotions that I was quickly turning into a hiccuping mess. I was literally crying over a fucking boy.

I layed down on my mattress, trying to wipe away my tears but they didn't stop falling. Neither did the sobs erupting from my mouth.

To be honest, I didn't even know what I was crying over. All I know is that Michael probably thinks I ended everything with him, and maybe there was a chance he'll never like me again.

All because of me. Again.

Grandma decided to barg into my room right at the moment I tried to recover from my tears. I immediately sat up, wiping my red face, mumbling so it looked like I had fallen asleep or something.

"Y/N dear, your mother called, I need to talk to you." Oh shit, that didn't sound good. Please don't tell me this is bad.

She sat down beside me while I curled my legs up to my chest, trying to hide my rosy pink nose in my knees.

"Y/N... is this a bad time? I can tell you tomorrow." She questioned softly, placing her hand on my back. I shook my head quickly, taking a deep, shaky breath and lowering my legs.

"No, you can tell me now." No you can't.

Grandma took a deep breath, her gaze moving to the carpet under our feet. I raised an eyebrow, covering my mouth when a loose hiccup decided to escape.

"Your mom and dad, they've- they did it, they got divorced. It's over now." She stated quietly, her soft gaze coming over me. No. No no no! "You'll be moving back to L.A soon with B/N, mom wants you back."

This wasn't the time.

No no no, no fucking way.

Please not now.

They actually got divorced? They paid money just to stop seeing each other?

I understood they were arguing, I understood they didn't like each other. I understood that maybe dad was a bit mental and that mom became too stressed because of it but they couldn't have figured it out? They had to get a divorce?

And that wasn't the main problem. I literally moved here just because mom didn't want to traumatise us with their constant shouting and screaming day and night.

At the start of the year, I would of loved to go back to the sunny weather of California but now, I wanted to stay. I didn't want to go, I wanted to stay.

Even with all the fucking murderer shit and stuff, even with all the bullies and assholes hanging around, even with a boy named Michael Afton.

I wouldn't be able to stand going away so abruptly. Terry was one of my most closest friends I had had in years, Michael was one of my most proper boyfriends, even if there was a chance everything was just about to end.

Even the town, even if it was all so dull and boring and small, it felt ten times better than living in the big city hours away from here.

"I know you probably want to stay or whatever, stay with Michael, but your mom wants you back before the next semester starts, you weren't actually supposed to be here this long." Grandma explained with a long sigh. I didn't say anything. I just stared into my hands, unable to take in that I probably have to leave in a week or two.

"I will miss you two kiddos though, even if you guys were trouble." Grandma laughed, I kept a straight face. On top of all the Michael shit, I had to move back.

I should be happy though, I will get to see mom again I guess. I'll get away from all those idiots. I'll get away from Michael.

I didn't want to get away from Michael.

I wanted to stay, stay in his arms forever, no matter what the hell happened or how he acted. I wanted to be with him, years on if it was possible.

I let out a deep breath. "Grandma... why can't I stay?" I questioned quietly, my voice slightly breaking.

"Mom misses you dear, I can't keep you forever."

Please keep me forever grandma, I need Michael.

"I'm staying, I- I don't want to go back, I want to stay." I instructed shakily, gazing at grandma pleadingly. She tutted and sighed.

"Can't happen dear, you know that. I'm sorry." She replied quietly. She stood up, opening my bedroom door. "I'll leave you for a moment, have your stuff packed up by next week."

This was not the right time for this.

How long had I been in this town? Around half a year.

How long had I been dating Michael? Just a month.

I knew I wasn't permanently supposed to stay here, I was going to have to go back eventually but not so soon, not when everything was slowly getting better even if right now it was all fucked up.

Everything was just so out of time, it mangled with my thoughts even more.

What was going to happen next? Michael was going to spawn in my window? B/N will die? Jesus christ.

I heard the doorbell ring loudly which made me direct my attention towards my door. I heard grandma shout, I sprinted for the stairs.

"Y/N! Go answer for me dear, I can't leave the cooker right now!" How the hell did she just-? Okay nevermind.

I stomped down the stairs, wiping my face with the back of my hand as I opened the door. Who the hell could be at the door at this time in the fucking rain?

I opened it quickly, my gaze stern at whoever stood but when I noticed who it was, my jaw tightened. I clutched the side of the door tightly, looking away as the lump in my throat returned.

"Y/N, I'm so so fucking sorry please." Michael begged, I tried to close the door but he held it open effortlessly, one hand covering the right side of his face. His hair was soaked, his leather jacket slipping off his shoulders, his knuckles were bruised terribly but his blue eyes continued to glisten in the moonlight. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do.

"Michael... what are you doing here? I asked quietly, trying my best to swallow. This was not the right time to see Michael, not after everything that has happened so far.

"I just- I didn't know where else to go, it's over with Brian, Zach didn't want me either, I know you're probably still mad at me but- but I didn't know where else to go." He explained shakily, the rain pattering loudly behind him. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong, I just- I was being dramatic, I know you were just trying to help." I sighed, looking down at my feet. "I can't admit to anything and I'm pushing it onto you, I just- I'm scared that you'll start acting like..."

"Jeremy?" He spoke up softly, his hand coming to the doorframe as he held himself up. I shrugged.

"I'm not trying to control you Y/N, I'm not trying to be the same asshole I was before, I'm trying to change Y/N but it isn't easy, just please don't tell me you're breaking this off." He pleaded, I shook my head.

"I'm not breaking anything off, there's just too many people you could start acting like, you change personalities every second, it's confusing. It's confusing and scary." I murmured, Michael raised his eyebrows.

"I'm not trying to scare you-"

"I know, I know you're trying Mike." I lifted my hands to his cheeks, that one hand gripping my fingers. "I promise we'll still be together there's just- a lot on my plate right now."

Michael nodded, letting out a relieving sigh. He held his forehead against the doorframe, his hand finally coming away from his cheek. My eyes widened.

"Can I come in? I kinda need help." He questioned shakily, I frowned, immediately caressing his cheek again. Along his forehead there was a big gash, still slightly dripping with blood. I glanced at his hand and it was just as injured.

"Mike... what happened? This wasn't here before?" I asked quietly, glancing back into the hall. No one was there, I could easily sneak him into the bathroom.

"I might of gotten into an argument with my dad after the fight..." He responded with a chuckle, I gawked at him. His dad?!

"Your dad did that?!" I exclaimed through gritted teeth, Michael immediately shushed me, covering my mouth with his bloody fingers which I quickly pushed away. "That wasn't Brian?!"

"Shut up, I just need a couple band aids."

I swiftly pulled him inside, closing the door slowly and making my way up the stairs, dragging Michael behind me.

"Now be quiet, you can't be caught."

---

"Ah-! That hurts."

I held the wet cloth tighter against Michael's forehead, somewhat trying my best to stop the bleeding but it wasn't the best. How many times am I going to have to nurse this boy?

"Shh, this is gonna hurt even more." I whispered, taking away the bloody cloth and pouring some cleansing alcohol onto another one. I pressed it against the gash along his forehead, Michael whimpered under his breath. I noticed him chewing on his lips, trying to keep quiet. Of course an injury this big was gonna hurt, I still can't believe that he didn't feel anything before.

He was holding my waist tightly before but now his fingers were digging painfully into my ribs.

"It's only gonna hurt a moment okay? A doorframe isn't the cleanest, I probably need to check for splinters too." I reassured him, Mike nodded but the way he clung onto my waist, his breathing becoming more rapid by the second indicated that the injury was more deeper than I thought it was.

Eventually Michael calmed down and I was able to take away the cloth, wiping away the blood and sticking a large band aid over the slit. That didn't look too bad but now I had to stop the swelling on his cheek too.

"There, that wasn't so bad." I giggled quietly, Michael smiled weakly but this obviously wasn't a smiling matter. I pressed an ice pack against his cheek, letting Michael hold it. Mike let out a relieving sigh, holding his head up against the wall behind him.

"I don't know what I'd do without you Y/N." Michael sighed softly, groaning loudly the second I started to clean up Michael's wound on his hand.

"Jesus Mike, I get the head injury but your hand too?" I asked softly, Michael rolled his eyes.

"I told you, he shoved me into the doorframe twice and I probably grabbed onto something sharp, I don't know, I only realised the second I got kicked out." He explained with a heavy sigh, sucking in a deep breath when I poured some of the alcohol onto his palm.

"Your father is crazy Michael." I whispered. "I'm surprised you're still happy and healthy."

"I'm surprised myself actually, it wasn't as bad as last time."

I raised my eyebrows, Michael groaned in pain again. "What happened last time?"

"When Evan died- oh god-" I rubbed his fingers reassuringly as I tied a bandage around his palm and wrist. "That night was fucking torture, I already felt guilty about myself alone for 'killing' Evan but my father made it worse, I can still remember his screaming, I was literally on the edge of killing myself." He explained with a soft chuckle, staring up at the ceiling.

I gazed at him sadly, tilting my head. It was mad how Michael didn't realise that he was talking about stuff that hurt me too. I didn't want him to feel guilty, I didn't want him to think about ending his life either. Deep in his heart, he was an amazing person, he just didn't know how to be like that. His only role model in his life was probably his father and William was not a man to look up to.

I finished wrapping his hand then held it in my own hand, clutching it tightly. I looked at him, watching as his smile faded the second my eyes met his.

"Mike, what you're saying isn't funny, it's- concerning. You're talking as if that isn't something you should be worried about." I stated quietly, Michael bit his lip, avoiding eye contact.

"Hypocrite." He muttered under his breath, I shook my head, caressing his cheek and forcing him to look at me.

"Okay yes I might do the same but I just don't want to admit stuff when it's wrong, but what you're saying is just awful. How old are you? Sixteen, your life hasn't even began yet and you want it to end. Michael, just talk to me, please."

Michael sighed heavily, burying his head in his hands. I rubbed his back reassuringly, awaiting a response.

"I don't want to talk about that Y/N, you don't realise how much it hurts to think about every single mistake in my life." He replied shakily, I nodded. "I'm just glad you're here because you are literally the only person right now that's making me happy."

I sighed, standing up and grabbing his hand, pulling him closer to me. I ran my hand through his wet hair, dragging it down his bruised cheek, he leaned into it, letting out a shaky breath.

"You wanna stay here tonight? You said you got kicked out." I questioned quietly, Michael raised his eyebrows.

"What about your grandma?"

"She doesn't have to know."

It was late and I was tired, Michael was tired. I didn't want to put him on the floor, he was too good for that.

We agreed on sleeping in my bed but on separate sides because I was still thinking about our relationship. I didn't want to ruin it, I wanted it to stay yet I couldn't admit to that.

Stupid stupid stupid.

My bed felt like it was ice, the rain rang in my ears as it splattered against the window. Michael didn't sound like he was sleeping either, we were just both lying in the darkness, staring up at my boring, stained ceiling.

I felt my body tremble under the covers, I tried curling my legs to conserve warmth but it didn't work very well. I needed Michael.

He must of sensed that because I felt his hand wrap slyly around my waist, pulling me slowly to his bare stomach, sighing heavily against my neck.

I stiffened for a moment before finally engulfing his warmth, letting him wrap his arms tighter around me, pulling my back flush against his chest. I let out a shaky breath, feeling as Michael whispered against my neck.

"You're amazing Y/N, I literally cannot live without you."

How was he supposed to live without me when I was literally leaving the state next week?

3186 words.

I literally do not know what I'm writing at this point.