was passionate about death...
Michael: was a passionate writer...


8. eight



It was 7:32 am and i was close to missing the bus, Monday is the taste of burnt coffee. Michael had left,so I was alone, attempting to find my black shirt. The damp smell of fern and rain still lingered gently on my tangled sheets. Touching the sheets momentarily the thoughts of the time we spent together came to me through the distorted, crinkled sheets. Raw cheeks,cold embraces,uneven breaths and broken promises. He was hiding something he had to be, there was something about the way he would touch me and the way he seemed to regret something. Ever since he left and started jumping off cliffs, to try and feel again.. he changed.


I have exactly 5 hours and 36 minutes until this ends, huffing to myself as i force my way into history.

Sometimes i want to ask Michael if he would do things to scare people for me, but i can't find it in me to ask and he's not like that anyway..


"Luke, i need to ask you something.."i mumble at Luke, he's already 3 lessons ahead so he could use a distraction.


"How do you know when you're ready to leave..?" why am i even asking him this? ..

"What do you mean, like leaving class, leaving school?" he rambles off..

I knew he wouldn't understand..

"Don't worry.." i mumble dropping the subject. Luke had always been so serious he seemed too distracted by school.He could never seem to settle down and make friendships, sure he was friendly but he seemed to worry about Cathy and Heathcliff or the endless decimals of pie more than he was about making friends or even thinking about love. But that was Luke.



Walking straight past my step mother i slam my door and take myself to bed, prescribing myself 3 sleeping pills.

"Luna, what are you doing?"

His voice catches me off guard making me jump slightly.

"Come here.." his arms extend, his forehead creased.

"Lay with me Luna, don't make me ask again." his tone low, and steady.

Throwing my bag down I join him. I just wanted to lay there and sleep for a while, i didn't want anything just to be held and i feel he felt the same way..


"Luna i know you think i'm hiding something from you, maybe i am, but i feel you are hiding something from me too."

I didn't really want to have this conversation right now, but i desperately needed to know what Michael was hiding from me, my curiosity was killing me.

"You first." I murmur.

"It's not that simple, Luna death is complicated. I lied to you. We won't see each other when you die, well not straight away. It's so hard to explain and i feel you probably aren't in the mood right now.." he speaks as if he's rehearsed the whole conversation.

We won't see each other when you die, well not straight away repeats over and over in my mind. I don't understand what he means by we won't see each other straight away.


"Is there some sort of administration line i have to wait in when i die to get to the in between?" confused i ask.


He sympathetically smiles, "Luna, no it's not an administration line, it's not like that, it's not so organised, death isn't like that, the in-between is more complicated than a simple survey and chat.

"I think we should talk about this later.."he slowly speaks.

"No, you came here."

"Luna when you love someone you think you can save them, you think you can protect them." "For too long i've thought that maybe i could save you, convince you that being here wasn't so bad, that death isn't as beautiful as the group 27 made it seem." "You see every breath you take every touch you feel i envy you." "You still have a chance, however small it may seem it is still there." "I promise you there will be a time, when happiness isn't the end of a blade, a few pills or an empty bottle." "When happiness is the warmth of his touch on yours, the cup of coffee and occasional cigarette." "Though, maybe the thought that when your were 17 and the edge of a cliff was more appealing than your next cigarette." "As you wake up one morning years or just months from now,maybe you'll think how the boy with the cold hands and dead eyes was in some way right." his hands pressed to mine,cold yet calming.

"Why do i feel like you're saying goodbye." I swallowed the lump threatening to choke me.

"Shh lay down."limply pressing myself agains him, i allowed myself to cry..



Her body was so small and when she started to cry, it reminded me of the way an abandoned home shook in a violent storm. She was so fragile, her hands shook limply against me. I hated the way she felt about herself and the way she found death a beautiful excuse to let go. That hurt me the most. She had skin like pale mists upon high mountains, with every trace i felt slightly worse, what a selfish prick i was being.She didn't need me here, i was a reminder to her of death. She needed a reason to live.

Her tears slowed as her breathing lowered, soft snores escaped her gentle lips. She was so beautiful like this, her eyes still slightly red, her cheeks flushed, each broken piece of her constellated in the most beautiful way. Wrapping my arms gently around her I laid with her, i held her as if maybe someone could help her place the pieces back somehow.






The world is ours, the night is tired, our hands are bleeding and our eyes have seen tears, but we have all been hurt just to love again. So why do we love if we will die, no one's love lives past their own eyes. And our reasons to stay are merely excuses as to why we won't leave. We will become masses of empty space, who only end up hurting those we love. So if you love someone you should let them be. You should just leave. The blue pen scribbled on the tattered sheet, it was at best unreadable. Not that i minded.

"This is another mixtape."Michael places it in front of me.

"Leave." I mumbled, the tape was labelled 'leave'.

"Michael why did you make this?"

"Because you of all people would know, the more you try to make someone stay the more they will want to leave." "I'm not tired of telling you to stay, i'm sad and sick of you feeling like you have to." "If this is what you really want, i want you to know that i think the world didn't really deserve you but you deserved the world."


"It's just always been so hard, i feel like i'm suffocating." examining my the floor i forced myself not to cry.


"You don't have to feel that way anymore.." "You can be like me.."

"You know how to do it, i know you do." he looks behind me staring at the small container of sleeping pills.

"I could just fall asleep, and then wake up beside you?" I mumble.

The room starts to to shake, becoming blurry, i'm not sure where i am anymore.

"Michael Michael." I scream.

"Who's Michael?" the annoyingly familiar voice inquires.

I blink rapidly, i feel sick, my head is pounding. I'm not really sure what just happened.

"Get up now Luna, you'll make us late for the family picnic."

"I'm not going!" I groan back at her.

My head is pounding and i feel like i'm about to be sick. Sitting up slowly from my bed my head spins and the next thing i know i'm emptying my stomach into my school bag. Feebly attempting to move my hair out of the way i fail, i feel terrible and weak.I start crying at how weak i feel, i hate this.

"Luna if you're pregnant that will be the end of you." My step mother howls at me before slamming the door.

I can't even find the strength to insult her, laying back down on my bed, I force myself to sleep, my head spins as i close my eyes.. Crying makes it worse, i try to remind myself, to stop but i can't find the strength within myself to stop.

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