TOUGH LOVE • MICHAEL GRAY FANFIC

15

I didn't know what else to do as I drive down the Birmingham streets. Sadness crept up my entire body and just stayed there as I wiped away my tears away. Cocaine, the vile was tucked into my palm as my fingers hooked around the steering wheel. Cocaine. Michael took this, and with the alcohol, he acted the way he acted. Or perhaps it wasn't this deadly cocktail that made him like this, but with the fact that he was in a noose his emotions must've magnified everything. And the way he cried will always leave a scar in my heart, even when I'm old and ready to die I'm sure the memory will always come to me.

I cried like a child in the car, sobbed uncomfortably as Michael sat there, looking dreamy in his sleep. Mum strolled into my brain, and dad, and the funeral that came and went one Sunday afternoon. I was among a sea of adults who seemed to constantly point out that I'm her, the daughter of Whitney and Derrick Osborne.

The daughter who made it out, whilst her parents welted away in the scourching fire. In a room full of people, I've never felt so alone. No one claimed me, not a single soul raised their hand and said, yup, I'll take responsibility of this little girl. That hurt the most.

And when I was shipped off to the orphanage, Michael was there. On the first day, oh I remember it so clearly, he was there to toss a little ball my way, something to remind me that I'm not alone. Distracting me of the chaos in my mind. We sat by the fire at night, in silence. I realized I hadn't heard him speak once, and neither had he. He had a look on his face, a smile, but of the saddest kind.

One night, I had been shivering, it was almost March but it was a rainy, windy evening and no one ever turned on the heating. He had left before coming back with a blanket and wrapped it around me.

I was perplexed by this young boy, I didn't know him. He didn't know me, but yet he does this? I hadn't heard him speak until that night. "Thank you." I had chirped, my voice a croak.

"You're welcome." He whispered back, hesitantly sitting beside me. He had put his arm around me, and knowing that Hughes and I had been spending a lot of time together, he told me in a voice so low and secretive, "Hughes is a very bad man and you're not alone. He does things to kids like you...Be strong, he doesn't touch the strong kids..."

He had decided to protect me without even knowing me! Tossing me the ball without ever having to do such a thing. Putting a blanket on me to keep me warm. Informing me that I'm not the only one being abused by Hughes.

I was just another body being pushed into the system, like the other ten kids who were forced into the orphanage the same day as me. But he chose me, someway, somehow, he chose me. And now it's my turn to protect him, it's my right, my mission, my fucking duty to keep Michael from falling into this deep and dark hole his family is pulling him into. It's Michael, it's always been Michael. I love him entirely, endlessly. He owns a piece of my heart, and I'd like to think I own a piece of his too.

I almost got into two bloody car accidents as a result of my tears. I've never felt this helpless in my life, Michael was slurring words in his sleep. Talking about me and just continuously apologizing.

Quickly, without really considering it, I shake Michael awake and slap him the way I would with any patients who comes in high on something.

"Hey," I shake his body, watching as he sways. "Michael! Hey! Wake up!"

"W-what," He growls. "Christ, stop hitting me woman!"

"I love you, ok? I fucking love you. You had the choice to choose whoever you wanted, and you chose me. You chose me, so I'm telling you right now that I choose you, alright?"

"Alright," He smiles lopsided. "Love u too."

Exhaling, I look at the road, noticing my apartment building getting closer. "I don't like that you snorted this, this, this—shit! I don't like it one bit, Michael. And you stink. You smell like you went swimming in a pool of whiskey and that's so disturbing because your liver must be-"