Bad News | Punk Michael Clifford

seventeen

It was silent for a while. Michael looked like he was contemplating what to say or how to say it.

After a while, he stomped out his cigarette and sighed.

"Do you wanna go for a walk?" He furrowed his eyebrows a bit and I nodded in response. I quickly dropped my backpack off inside the house and rejoined Michael outside.

We walked for a few minutes in silence before he spoke again.

"You're gonna hate me." Michael said, biting his lip.

I looked at him with a questioning expression while shaking my head.

"You're going to think I'm stupid at the very least."

"Michael, please tell me what's wrong." I was getting antsy now. Thousands of thoughts raced through my head.

"I fucked up." He sighed. "I fucked up. I'm fucked up. All I am is just a fuck up." He kicked a trashcan that was sitting on the curb out of anger.

"Michael," I tried to think of something to say. I didn't want to upset him more than he already was. Angry Mikey was not a good Mikey. "What happened?" I spoke very softly.

Michael's back was turned towards me, and I could see as he strained to relax. He took a deep breath before speaking again.

He continued to leave his back facing me while he spoke. "First, my parents asked to see me again. They wanted to talk things out- which I thought was fine. I haven't seen them in a while, and I kinda missed them. So, I went over to their house, but all they did was talk about all the bad shit I've done! They tried to tell me that they did everything they could to help me. They didn't do anything, but criticize me and tell me how screwed up I was! They never did anything to help me! So, I left. I told them congratulations for raising such a fucked up son, and I left. Then I was so angry that I drank until I couldn't see straight anymore. I found my old drug dealer, I bought some stuff, and fucked myself up even more. All because of my stupid parents. They're the reason I even got into everything that I did! It's all their fault that I'm this way!" Michael's rage turned to tears. He slumped down on the sidewalk with his head in his hands and sobbed. "I don't wanna be like this." He said almost inaudibly.

I had never seen a grown boy sob before, but believe me, it's not a pretty sight. It broke my heart to see him in this state, but I was scared of how to approach him. I had to get over my fear though. What this boy needed was to be shown that someone cared for him. He needed to be shown love. He was broken inside and needed someone to mend the pieces back together. And I wanted to be that person.

I sat down on the sidewalk next to Michael and put my arms around him. He flinched away at first, but soon gave in to my touch. I rubbed soothing circles onto the large six-foot tall boy's back, and he pushed himself tighter into my embrace.

"Shhh. It's gonna be okay, Michael. I'm here." I spoke softly as he continued to cry into my lap. "You're not as messed up as you think."

Finally, he looked up at me. Tears stained his cheeks, and his eyes were red and puffy. "But, Alyx, I am messed up! I-"

I cut him off. "No, Michael. You're going to get better. I'm going to help you." I still spoke softly and calmly but also sternly.

"Alyx, please don't leave me. Please." Tears rolled down Michael's face, and he looked like a little boy- a scared little boy.

"Never." I leaned down and placed a light kiss on his forehead. "I won't leave you, Michael."

A/N

I may or may not have cried writing this.