lost in reality ✦ m. clifford [DISCONTINUED]

"Do you even love me Haley?"





❝You throw me around like your rag doll

And throw me away like your cigarettes

And pick up the pieces of whatever's left of me,

They're yours to keep

A million and one ways that I've tried

To turn it around, leave it all behind

But every time you turn out to be

One step ahead of me❞

“Don’t you love me, Haley!” He yelled, a tear falling down his pale cheek.

“Yes, Michael I do,” She mumbled fumbling with her keys. She was trying to find the one to unlock her car and escape the crying teenager in front of her. He always felt the girl was oblivious to his feelings, using him every once in a while and then throwing him away. He couldn’t leave her though, he loved her so damn much. The words would be on his tongue to tell her ‘I’m sorry Haley, I can’t be with you’ but she ould flash her beautiful smile, and all would change. His mouth went dry and the words dissolved.

“Well, you don’t act like it!” Neighbors were beginning to watch the boy as if it . were a show. She got in her car and quickly drove away, leaving the boy standing there. The tears were falling faster now, she always left him like this. Crying, yet wanting the heartbreaker back. Later, he would text her continuously, she would read, yet she never answered. Maybe she didn’t love him.

She drove and drove. Mile after mile until she was out of gas. She pulled up at a shady gas station checking her phone to see that it was nearing midnight. How far had she gone? She did this quite often, drove straight until she ran out of gas, and then tried to make her way back. Every now and then she would get lost and rely on Google Maps to safely take her home. It’s not like her mom really cared. She was probably busy with Jason anyways, she never paid attention to Haley. She’d rather fuck her boyfriend, but it wasn’t Haley’s business what her mom did after her father died. He wouldn’t have let Haley’s mother let herself go.

Haley’s mother came home drunk, and most likely missed an hour or two of work to hook up with her co-worker Jason in the staff room. Her mother was a waitress, Jason a cook. He wasn’t good at it. He had brought food to Haley and her mother, let’s just say it wasn’t good. At times when Jason got violent towards Haley, her mother did nothing. Haley turned to Michael in these times. She would need someone or something to numb her mind.

Michael had a pretty decent home life. His mother and father babied him, so he learned to be the dependent one in a relationship. You could ask anyone in Michael’s home, they were scared he wasn’t going to survive college.

The relationship worked between the two of them. Haley had someone to distract her, Michael had someone to depend on other than his family. None of the feelings in the mix were love. Not the silly little love you throw around, but the real meaning that sends your heart racing and butterflies have the sudden urge to flutter around in your stomach. No one in the mix felt that. They were just two people that needed something the other could apply. So basically, they threw around ‘I love you’ and pretended like it meant something when it didn’t.

She reached a small motel on the outskirts of a small town. She walked into the office. Immediately, she was engulfed in the smell of cigarette smoke and stale doughnuts. She paid for a room and found it next to a room that she could sware a drug deal was happening in. She through a small bag down on the dresser and switched on the dusty lamp. She always kept a bag with clothes and toiletries in her car for nights like these. Nights when she would pay for a cheap motel room somewhere she didn’t know and most likely stay up until 3 a.m drawing or writing. By the end of the night, her fingers were stained with graphite and Spotify had run out of music in her playlist to play her. She didn't want her life any other way. She finally was getting tired around four a.m and decided to sleep. As she began to fall into a deep sleep, she missed a familiar touch, an arm slung over her hip. Michael’s arm. Michael’s arms were always war, and she felt safe, melting into him as he holds her throughout the night. She never realized how much she wanted it until she didn’t have it. She began to push his face out of her mind, but those green eyes still punctured her mind until she couldn’t sleep. She had dark circles that not even concealer could fix. She grabbed her day-old clothes, sketchbook, and keys. She was leaving and driving. Driving was simply her therapy.

She arrived home around two or three hours later. She was scared, she had seen Jason’s motorcycle parked in her parking spot. Haley parked at the diner across the street, her heart beating faster and faster with every step.

She carefully cracked the door open being careful not to make much noise. “Where the fuck have you been,” The words rolled off his tongue in a slur. His shirt stained and a half empty beer bottle swinging around in his fingers.

“Driving,” She mumbled looking down at the ground. Glass, glass littered the floor. A few packs of empty cigarette boxes also had a home on the ground. He raised his empty hand up and slapped Haley.

“Your mother and I were worried about you Haley,” He hissed as her mother walked through wearing her waitress uniform. She had cherry red lipstick in her hand and was coating too many layers on her thin lips.

“Where were you driving too,” Her mother asked bitterly.

“Anywhere that seemed interesting,” Haley shrugged and began to walk to her

room. She would lock herself in there for the rest of her life if she could.

“Didn’t you think to call!” Jason was raising his voice. Her mother stood by smirking. Haley didn’t respond. She walked to her room, slammed the door, and let a few tears fall down her face. If only she was a little bit later, she wouldn’t have to get yelled at. She walked over to the mirror above her dresser and observed the red mark on her tan cheeks. She breathed deeply promising herself she wasn’t going to cry. She would only cry if it was a big deal. Just like the time Jason threw a beer bottle at her. She still had a small scar on her leg from where the glass cut her.

She ran to Michael that night. They sat in his backyard and she cried until she

had completely soaked his sweatshirt. Without thinking, she pulled out her phone and dialed Michael’s number. “Hello?”

“Fuck off Haley.”

She was left alone in silence.    



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