All I Ever Wanted

Chapter Fourteen

Phoebe lies asleep on the bed. Luckily, there are two beds, but I still can't sleep. I wish to drift peacefully into my dreams but I can't even do that. Phoebe however seems to have no problems with sleeping. Her eyelids flutter rapidly, I wonder if she's dreaming.

I wrap myself in my dressing down and tread quietly downstairs. My feet are cold since I have no slippers but before I can dwell on it I hear a crash coming from the kitchen. I rush down the stairs to see what caused the noise.

Opening the kitchen door I see Mike standing with his hands in front of him. The floor is littered with broken glass. He has dropped something on the floor. I roll my eyes, how clumsy can you be? "Where's the dust pan?" I ask while bending down to pick up all the larger pieces of glass.

Wordlessly he walks around me and disappears from view. Seconds later he returns holding a dust pan and brush. "Here, put this glass in the bin." I demand taking the brush from him. I sweep up the mess. I only look up when I hear a startled yelp. Mike is holding his left hand to his chest and a small drop of red leaks down his hand. I roll my eyes. He's cut himself on the glass. He is such a child, but I didn't think I had to warn him the glass was sharp!

I'm finished sweeping now so I stand up grab the glass that's in Mikes' right hand and chuck all of it in the bin. Leaving the brush on the side I search through all the draws. Finally I find some plasters. I was looking for a first aid kit but there isn't one here, so this will have to do.

"What are you doing?" Mike demands from behind me.

I turn around and put my finger to my lips "You'll wake Phoebe, so be quiet." Then I throw the plasters at him, which he easily catches. A small smile spreads across my face, I have an idea. "You so owe me for this!" I demand, although normally I wouldn't want, let alone demand, any kind of reward. Especially for something so small and insignificant.

As we make our way to the living room he asks, "What do you want?"

I grin evilly. "I want you to tell me about your past, and you can't leave out the important parts!" He looks taken aback. The grin slips off my face. Maybe I'm being too pushy? After all there is no good reason for me to know except I'm curious. Curiosity killed the cat, and he had nine lives, I only have one.

Mike takes a deep breath. Too late now, I guess I'm going to finally find out. Mike announces "I'm going to tell you about me, then you're going to tell me exactly why your here."

I gulp. There's always a catch. I can't back out now however because he never really gave me a choice. I just nod and wait for the rest staring intently and my fingers. He doesn't say anything and I look up with a questioning stare on my face.

"I don't know where to start." He admits.

"The beginning." I reply dryly.

He nods and starts to speak "My father wasn't a good person. He hit my mom and brother a lot. One day he was yelling at my brother. My brother Luke was only fifteen at the time, and I was eighteen. I was in the next room but came in to see what was going on. Then Luke shouted back at dad and..." He stops short.

Immediately I feel guilty for asking. He looks like he's about to cry, the only grown up I've ever seen cry is my mom. "You don't have to tell me." I whisper.

"It's okay." He mumbles. He still sounds like he's going to cry. He waits a minute before continuing. "Then my dad pulled out a gun."

I gasp, and none too quietly either. I feel completely horrified. Then I say nervously "What happened to you is a lot worse than what happen to me." He shrugs and I wonder what he's thinking. At the minute he's looking at my face, probably wondering how I am reacting to this information. "Go on." I mumble. I'm half hoping he won't hear. Do I really want to know what happens next?

However he continues. "He points the gun at Luke's chest. Luke looked terrified; there was nothing he could do. I ran forwards to stand between Luke and the gun. Then he pulled the trigger." Mike pauses for a second to swallow the emotion threatening to spill. I sit wondering how it is possible Mike is still breathing. "I closed my eyes and something hit me, but it wasn't painful enough to be a bullet. Luke had pushed me out of the way. I screamed, but the bullet had already hit his chest. He fell to the floor, just about still alive. He looked me in the eye before his heart stopped."

I burry my head in my knees. That's awful; I don't know how he's not crying. If it was me I'd be bawling like a baby. If I was it his situation and Phoebe died, I would die too. If Phoebe died why would I want to live? Maybe that seems a little extreme but she means everything to me. I look up at Mike who says "There's more."

My eyes widen. "How can there be more than that?"

Mike laughs but not in humour. "You have no idea."

I wait patiently for him to continue. I've heard this much I might as well hear the ending. Then finally he whispers so quietly I might be imagining it "Then he pointed the gun at me. I was scared to death until he spoke. 'I'm not going to kill you, as long as you don't tell anyone, even the police.' He said. I just nodded. As soon as he lowered the gun, I was gone. I ran for the police station. I told them everything. They said they were going to send someone round tomorrow. They said everything was going to be okay. But it wasn't okay. And that's how I ended up standing on top of Suicide Bridge."