I woke up in Nicole's room. Michael wasn't there. I walked downstairs, everyone was asleep. Michael wasn't there either. I walked out the door and called his name. No answer. I called his phone and there was still no answer. I was so hungover. But I started walking home. I didn't have shoes on, but barely noticed and I didn't care. I pretty much had no idea where I was going. At least two hours later, I was standing in front of my house. I checked my phone, and everyone had called me about two times. Except Michael. I knocked on his door and waited a few minutes. His mom came out. "Is Michael here?" I quietly asked. "I haven't seen him," she said, then turned around and called his name. No answer. She apologized as I turned back around and walked to my own house. I walked in and ignored my mother and aunt. "Alright, then." One of them said as I walked past them and went straight upstairs, I couldn't make out who. I fell backwards onto my bed and covered myself in blankets. I started sobbing, I don't know why. Soon, I dazed off into a deep sleep and dreamt about Michael. A long boring dream in which pretty much nothing happened, except it really wasn't boring to me. I was awakened by what sounded like a quite banging. I didn't know where it was coming from, or if it was just in my head. I covered my ears and rolled over. When I uncovered them, I realized it was coming from the window. "Michael!" I thought and ran to the window. Except it wasn't him. It wasn't anything, probably just my imagination. My phone rang and I ran over, hoping it would be from him. But it wasn't.