Chapter Eighteen

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*Michael's P.O.V.*

I woke up in the hospital. They said I passed out from lack of oxygen. School was long out before I woke up, and Pete, Henrietta, and Fickle all waited in the room for me to wake up.

Henrietta was the first to speak causing the other's attention to focus on me, "You're awake."

"Yeah, I'm awake. Now, what is this shit attached to me?" I asked, pulling to tubbing out of my nose.

In my efforts, I ended up pulling on a lot of different thing, unplugging the large machine. A loud beeping noise came out from the machine, and a nurse quickly made their way in here.

"Sir, you can't unhook that, hun," the Nurse commented, coming into the room.

I glared at her. "I don't need it on."

"Your oxygen levels are low, and we need to watch your heart rate. I'm sorry, but you do need it on," she replied.

Before I could object, the woman re-hooked everything on me. I gave her the finger when she left and started unhooking it all again.

"Michael, you need to leave that on you," Henrietta scolded.

"Why?" I seethed.

"Do you not get that you almost died today?" she replied.

"What does it matter? Am I the only one who remembers? We are Goths. We hate the world. Who called the ambulance? Because I swear to God if it was one of you I'll beat the sense back into you. This place is miserable and full of conformists. Stop trying to make the best of it because there is no making the best of it. Just temporary moments the take you away from total agony," I lectured them.

"It was me. I told the principal's office that you weren't breathing very well," Henrietta fessed up.

"What in the name of Cthulhu," I cursed.

"Michael, I'm sorry I'm late. I had to go back to work while you were still passed out," my father said, coming into the room in a frenzy.

My mood worsened as the events of the day continued. The last person I wanted to see was him. I pass out and am in the hospital, and this asshole goes back to work in the meantime.

"I don't need you here anyways. I don't need any of you here," I replied.

"I can tell when you get into a nursing home, you're going to be real pleasant," a voice commented.

Everyone turned to the doorway to see (Y/N) standing there. My father moved over, and the pretty (h/c) haired girl slowly stepped in.

"What are you doing here?" I spat.

"Henrietta called. Told me you were in the hospital," she replied. "Can we talk?"

My eyes widened, and my heart felt some reliefcome over it. "Everyone get out."    

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