Three Years On

Chapter Eleven

Hey guys, I'm uploading on time! What I'm doing this week is writing a chapter a day, but only uploading on every other day so that I can get ahead again :) This one's dedicated to NErdyloveGiRL because I spent a day staring at my total votes at 998, waiting for someone to come and give me a couple more so that I could hit that magic number, then she came along and supplied them for me! 

Anyways, happy reading and remember to comment! The song on the side is by Mindy Gledhill, I discovered her today and fell in love! I will be posting multiple songs by her with each chapter :P

***************************************************************************************************************

     ‘Michael? You awake?’ Lisa, his mother asked tentatively, poking her head around his bedroom door. The small opening she made in the door spilled light into the darkened room, making Michael’s eyes ache. He groaned and rolled over.

     ‘I am now.’

     ‘Sorry,’ she said, but instead of leaving him to go back to sleep, she moved into the room, closing the door behind her. Michael didn’t say anything, he just buried his face deep in his pillow, eyes squeezed shut, hoping to fall back asleep. He felt her sit down on the end of the bed by his feet. She didn’t do anything, just sat there.

     Eventually Michael sighed and opened his eyes to look at her, sitting up in his bed. ‘Whatever you have to say, can’t you do it later in the day, when I’m not trying to sleep?’

     His mother’s expression was sympathetic as she told him ‘It’s three in the afternoon Michael.’

     He huffed and flopped backwards onto the pillows again. ‘Well some of us didn’t get home until four in the morning,’ he told her, staring at his ceiling. It was blue and had gold and silver stars painted on it, which he could only just make out in the dim light. It was childish, but it had been like that for as long as he could remember and his mother had painted it herself for him, so he loved it.

     ‘I’m concerned about you Michael,’ she said at last. He didn’t move or react in any way, deciding it was best for her to say all she had to say before he joined in. ‘You’ve been home for a week and a half now.’ She paused again, and Michael wondered if this was going anywhere with this, apart from pointing out what he already knew. ‘I’ve hardly seen you the whole time. You go out and don’t come home until four in the morning. Then you sleep until four in the afternoon, and then you go out again. It’s not like you.’

     ‘How do you know?’ he asked, looking at her, shooting her a deathly glare. ‘I haven’t lived here for three years. I go out plenty.’

     She thought about what to say, tucking her blond hair behind her ears, before opening her mouth again. ‘I’m your mother Michael. Whether or not you’ve been going out this much for the past three years, it means something is wrong.’

     Michael sighed. ‘Hmmm, let’s have a think,’ he said sarcastically. ‘What happened in the last few years that may have left me changed?’ He didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking, so he threw back the covers and tried to leave.

      ‘Michael! We’re having a discussion here,’ she chided him. ‘You can’t just get up and leave because you don’t want to talk about her.’

     He stopped just before his door and looked behind him at her. ‘I don’t even know who you’re talking about,’ he sneered.

     ‘Maybe because you’ve avoided talking about her since you came home three years ago,’ she pointed out. ‘You think you did a good job of pretending like you had forgotten about her? You may have been in Warwick half the time, but I still saw enough of you to know how you felt.’