It had been a month since I've been found in the woods since they told us that Michael was dead. Nobody wanted to believe it and I guessed nobody ever will. All my wounds and bruises had already healed, but the scars in my memory will never fade.
I downed the last shot of vodka as the loud music played, I knew getting drunk was not a good idea and I gotta stop this right now, I needed to be a little sober to be able to drive home... even just a little.
I stood up and tried to walk straight, blinked a couple of times and took a deep breath, standing straight and keeping my composure.
I got in the car, took a little time before I stick the key into the ignition. I had been miserable and it was just very hard... everything I did just reminded me of Michael, every memory of my life in this industry was filled with his memories.
I felt like crying again, but I could not cry anymore. My chest hurted in trying to convince myself that he is fine, he's alright, and he's coming back soon. But why the fuck was this so hard to do? I slammed my fist into the steering wheel as the lump on my throat rised, it's choking effect made me feel more nauseous.
I stepped on the breaks and leaned my back on the seat as the warm tears flow down my cheeks.
"Fuck Michael, I can't go on without you." then I went into a full out sobbing as I rest my head into the steering wheel. "I just can't Michael, please come back."
I couldn't help but think that if he's dead right now, then I must die too.
Cars were honking, waking me from my train of thoughts and I decided to start to drive again.
I got home, hearing noises from the other suite where the boys were staying. They decided to make me live with them in the same building to keep me company. But it won't help me I'm telling you. Not until michael's back I won't be fine, if he's never gonna come back then I guess I will never be fine.
I went to my room and sat on the edge of my bed as I removed my high heels. I looked around the space on the floor where I always put my shoes and pumps and was utterly shocked that it was cleared. I had this bad habit of just throwing it by the dresser, one thing Michael always reminded me of not doing, I only tried but after a day or so then ended up doing the same thing again. Tonight it was different. I looked at the same spot but they were not there. The one that I wore yesterday and the one I wore this morning was just there when I left earlier but now they were gone.
I stood up quick and turned to look around the room, and I swear I felt like my blood was just drained out of my face and my heart pounding like they're about to explode when my eyes saw where they were...
...under the vanity.
"Michael?"
I called out, looking for him around the room. I knew he was here or he had been here, I didn't care I needed to find him. I continued searching for him, in the bathrooms, in the kitchen, in the living room... but he was not there.
"Michael!" I called him once more.
I knew he was the only one who does that.
Every time he visited me back in my old place, he always told me not to just throw them anywhere. He said shoes are so important for they take you to places where you make some memories. He always put them under the vanity table when he sees them scattered everywhere. He must've been here... nobody does that but him. And nobody knows that, just me and him.
I sat on the couch to think and look around, nothing's been changed and there's no way they're going to joke around with me about Michael.
I sighed in frustration as I pulled my dress over my head then wore an over sized shirt that I always wear to sleep. I stared at the ceiling as my sight slightly swirls, not bothering to put a pillow under my head or cover myself with a blanket. Just laying across the bed with my arms spread wide and my feet dangling at the edge of the bed.
I could still hear noises that the boys made, I wonder why they were partying. They seemed to be so happy right now and I wished I could join them, but I don't think I'd be happy if I join them. I haven't felt it for a long time...
****
I woke up this morning, feeling warm as the sun's rays fill the room with it's light. Damn I forgot to close the curtains last night. I wonder what time is it now.
I reached for my bag on the floor and pulled out my phone, it's ten thirty. I squinted to see the missed calls and messages clearly.
Really? Fifty six missed calls and thirty two messages. When I opened the messages and call logs, it was all from the boys. Each one of them has a share of asking where I was and asking me to come over and they have a surprise party.
I guessed I owed them an apology for not answering their calls and messages, so I quickly brushed my teeth and made a quick shower.
I stood before their door, not knowing what to say. I didn't have a valid excuse for not coming last night, I never thought they would have a surprise party for me. I knocked, and seconds later the door opened.
I gasped, eyes wide and unable to speak.
The same green-eyed, curly haired boy that I've missed so much stared blankly at me.
MICHAEL.....
.
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