#michael clifford au

Forgotten Memories
4. Eating for Two

“Andy, dinner!” Mom’s irritated voice shouts from upstairs.

My eyes go wide, “Oh shit.”

“I’ll be up in a minute!” I shout.

I look back at Michael, and hand my laptop over to him. We’d been looking up his band trying to jog some of his memory, but it hasn’t helped at all.

“I’ll be right back, stay here and be quiet. I’ll bring food.” He perks up at the word food, and sits up straighter, nodding obediently.

Shutting my door behind me, I trudge up the stairs. The smell of lemon chicken, and potatoes hits my nose, making me grin.

Oh, how do I love food.

I grab a larger plate from the pile of them, and start stacking it up with food. Three pieces of chicken, two potatoes, a small mountain of green beans, and a puddle of gravy on the side. I look up to see everyone staring at me in shock.

“I’m, hungry?”

Tiffany scoffs, “Obviously.”

When everyone’s looking at Brandon, I slip an extra fork into my pocket. I fill up a tall glass with water, all the way to the rim of it.

“I’m eating in my room.” I call, as I head downstairs.

“Bring your dishes up when you’re done.” Mom reminds me.

I nod at her, doubting that she actually saw me. I hurry downstairs, into my room, and see Michael staring at my art work again.

“I’m back.” I announce.

He turns around, and looks at my plate of food, his eyes going wide. We both sit down on my bed, with the plate in between us. It’s silent as we both eat for a while. Michael breaks the silent when he clears his throat.

“Did you draw those yourself?” He asks, his mouth still half full of food, and points to the drawings and paintings on my walls.

I nod, “Yeah.”

“They’re amazing.”

My eyes go wide.

Michael Clifford just complimented me on my artwork.

I start to choke on my green bean, after I take a sip of water, and can breath properly, I reply, “Thank you.”

His look of worry goes away as he smiled and nods his head, “You’re welcome. This food is amazing, what is it?”

He takes another bite of the chicken, moaning at the taste.

“Chicken and potatoes?” I reply, but it comes out as more of a question.

He really doesn’t remember anything, does he?

“Well it’s delicious.” He grins at me, and immediately goes back to shoving food in his mouth.

Apparently he forgot what manners were too.

In less than ten minutes, Michael’s eaten the two largest pieces of chicken, more than half of the potatoes, and only a few green beans. I ate the rest, which wasn’t very much.

“I have to take this up. Be-”

“Quiet, I’ve caught on my now.” he nods.

I blush, but smile lightly at him. When I close my door, I let out a breath, suddenly feeling exhausted. Everything that’s happened today, the stupid flashback to that horrid night, Adam calling me, Michael showing up, having to hide him and try and figure out what is wrong with him, that discussion with the family, the new rules, It’s all making my head hurt.

“Wow, you ate all of that?!” Brandon’s surprised voice only makes my head hurt even more.

“Yeah.” I deadpan, not in the mood to deal with him.

“I bet she’s eating for two.” Tiffany whispers, so the parents can’t hear.

“Coming from you.” I scoff, and load my dishes into the dishwasher.

Tiffany gasps, as if she’s shocked. No one thinks it, but she’s a huge slut. She comes off as this perfect girl, who could do no wrong, when in reality she’s hooking up with the whole football team. If she wants to be that way, then by all means I’ll let her. But if she comes crying to me with an STD, I’ll only laugh. I start to head for the stairs, but get stopped.

“Andy, help clean everything up.” Phillip instructs.

I roll my eyes, but do as I’m told. Tiffany and Brandon are told to help me, but they don’t of course. After all of the leftovers are in containers, and in the fridge, I finally escape and tiredly walk to my room.

Michael’s looking at my laptop again, with his eyebrows furrowed, and it looks like he is thinking really hard.

“Remember anything?” My voice sounds just as tired as I do.

He shakes his head, still staring at the screen, “No, nothing.” He looks up at me, and his eyes go wide, “You look dead.”

I laugh lightly, “No, I’m fine, lets-” I’m interrupted by a yawn, “keep looking to try and jog your memory.”

“I can do that, but you need to sleep.” he decides, and moves to sit on the floor.

“What? No, I’m fine, come back up here.” I yawn again, right after I say that.

He shakes his head, “No, get some sleep, I’ll be fine down here.” He reaches over and turns off the light.

“There’s extra pillows and blankets in my closet.” I comment, then drift off into sleep.

…

The sound of pound wakes me up. I had just had this crazy dream too. I was home alone, and Michael Clifford showed up at my house. I never had this crazy of dreams anymore, and it was entertaining.

Like that could ever happen.

“Andy! Wake up!” The pounding on my door continues, with my mothers irritating voice.

I groan and roll over, squinting my eyes open. A light snoring makes my head snap towards the ground. A bright red head full of hair pops into my vision.

“Oh shit.” That wasn’t a crazy dream, Michael Clifford is curled up on my floor, drooling on my pillow.

“Andy!”

“I’m up!” I shout, momentarily forgetting that there’s a sleeping Australian curled up in a My Little Pony duvet.

“Phillip and I are going out, I need you to watch after Ruth.” She says through my door. Thank god I locked it as I came in last night, or something horrible could have happened.

I glance at my alarm clock to see that it’s nearly noon.

“What about Brandon, or Tiffany?” I question, and Michael doesn’t even stir from the noise.

“Tiff’s at Brittany’s, and Brandon’s leaving for Sean’s soon.”

I groan, it’s not that I didn’t want to watch Ruth, it’s that I didn’t want to do it now. I’m still exhausted.

“Fine.” I huff.

“She should be awake soon, get up and get ready for the day.” With that I hear her footsteps disappear upstairs. I roll my eyes.

As if I’m getting ready on a Saturday.

My groans are muffled by my pillow as I shove my face into it, just wanting to go back to sleep. After a few minutes, I hear the garage door open and close, signalling that the parents are gone. I look down, to see that Michael is still snoring into my pillow.

I scribble out a quick note to him,

‘If I’m not there when you wake up, don’t look for me.

Stay quiet.

-Andy’

I make my way upstairs, and immediately turn on the coffee maker. The sound of explosions makes me jump.

“What the hell was that?!” I screech, and turn around to see Brandon playing on his Xbox.

“As if you’ve never heard someone getting blown up.” He scoffs.

“I thought you were supposed to be gone?” I yawn, pulling out some waffles and throwing them into the microwave.

“Sean’ll be here in like 5 minutes.” He murmurs, his attention fully on the TV screen.

I roll my eyes, and make my coffee, then butter and drown them in syrup. I’m halfway through my third waffle, when Brandon announces that he’s leaving. Right as he slams the door, Ruth starts crying. I finish my coffee quickly, and scurry to her nursery.

“Hey doll, what’s wrong?” I grin at her, as she continues to cry.

“You need a diaper change? I think so.” I change her diaper, then lift her out of her crib.

“Is that better?” She’s stopped crying, so I’ll take that as a yes.

“Lets get you some breakfast.” I take her into the kitchen, and whip up a bottle for her.

I suddenly remember that Michael is downstairs. Once her bottle is finished, I give it to her, and carry her downstairs with me. I hear commotion in my bedroom, so Michael must be awake. I open my door, and see him rubbing his eyes while sitting on my bed.

“Good morning.” His head snaps towards me when I speak.

“Good morning.” His raspy morning voice, combined with his accent, makes my heart race.

“This is Ruth, my half sister.” I grin at her, as she stares at Michaels hair as if she’s in a trance. Michael stands up, and walks towards us, grabbing one of Ruth’s hands.

“Nice to meet you Ruth, I’m Michael.” She reaches for his hair, and I giggle at both of them.

“Everyone’s gone. You hungry?” The moment I say the word hungry, his stomach rumbles.

“Yes, but I need to use the bathroom first.” His cheeks turn a shade of pink.

My eyes widen and I nod, “Go right ahead, I’ll be upstairs when you’re done.”

He nods and scurries off to the bathroom. Ruth makes a noise when he leaves, and is frowning. I laugh and start to attack her with kisses. She squeals, and tries to get away, but she can’t. Her little laughter is so adorable.

After I’ve gotten tired of drowning her in kisses, and she looks like she’s on the verge of crying, I stop. I take her upstairs, and play around with her, waiting for Michael to hurry up.

Finally, I hear footsteps, so I turn around and see Michael with his red hair all over. He looks so attractive in my brothers sweatpants, I have to force myself to look away from him.

“You’re probably starving, we have cereal, waffles, eggs, toast, pancake mixture, this local nutritious crap that Tiffany eats.” I stick a tongue out just thinking of her thick drink that looks like throw up.

“I’m not sure what any of those are.” Michael says embarrased, scratching the back of his neck.

I think for a moment, “I think you’d be a pancake kind of person.”

“Okay….” He replies unsurely.

“But it requires two hands for me to make them, and setting up her high chair is a pain in the ass. Could you hold her?” I ask and bite on my lip while I wait for him to reply.

“Sure!” He reaches out his hands eagerly.

Who knew that Michael Clifford would be such a softie around children.

I grin, and hand her over to him, then give him her bottle. Ruth immediately reaches for his hair, and actually gets a grip on it. She starts to tug and pull it, making him wince.

“I’m sorry, she is a hair puller. Just give her her bottle and hopefully she’ll stop.” I have to be careful not to laugh at him, as Ruth keeps on playing with his hair.

I get out the pancake mixture, and start to mix it all together. I hear Ruth making little noises, and smile at myself.

Once the batter is ready, I take out a pan and put it on the stove, and wait for it to warm up.

“How’s she doing?” I turn around to see him staring at her fondly.

“Great.” His voice is soft, and there’s a smile on his face that I doubt anything could ruin.

I take a step towards the both of them, and reach out to smooth Ruth’s hair out. Michael and I lock eyes, and my heart flutters.

“She really likes you.” my voice is just above a whisper.

His gorgeous light blue-green eyes stay locked in mine, “And I really like her.”

Something hard smacks me through the face. A thud hits the ground, and I look down to see Ruth’s empty bottle.

“Ireally like her.” Michael laughs.

“The little brat always throws it at me when she wants more.” I grumble, and pick it up.

The pan is hot enough, so I pour the perfect amount of batter into the pan, and let it cook. I quickly make Ruth a new bottle, and hand it to Michael, then go back to the pancakes and flip it.

Ten minutes later I’ve made five pancakes, three for Michael and two for me. I’ve buttered them and drown mine in syrup, but let Michael chose how much me wants.

He skillfully eats and holds Ruth on his lap at the same time. He’s even careful to not get syrup all over.

The second he has his first bite of pancake in his mouth, I can tell that he loves it.

“I’ll make more.” I grin as he’s halfway finished his plateful.

He doesn’t argue, but continues to eat. I make another five pancakes, three more for him and two more for me. We finish our breakfast, and I get an idea to job his memory.

I connect my phone to our stereo, an start to play 5sos’s album. He listens closely, but in the end shakes his head. I play other bands I know he enjoys, but get the same answer.

I give up on music, “Let’s try movies.”

-

Authors note:

So this chapter is terrible and I’m sorry. I’m in that place where I know what the beginning and ending of the story are gonna be, I just don’t know the middle.

I could really use some ideas! What do you guys think is going to happen?

Comment what you think’ll happen!

Also vote if you enjoyed it!

Ps, the picture on the side is of Jennifer Connelly, who I chose to be Andy’s mom! I think the picture perfectly depicts her.

Well, that’s all I have to say.

Have a great day/night/life.

HTJ

Forgotten Memories
3. Asleep In My Bed

Here I sit, on the floor of my bedroom, trying not to freak out, while Michael Clifford lays snoring lightly in between my sheets. Never in my whole life, would I have thought that anything like this would ever happen. I keep having to pinch myself, so I know it’s not a dream.

I’m sitting on my floor, with my legs crossed, and my Mac on my lap. I keep searching things about Amnesia, and on every website it says to go to a doctor immediately.

I completely understand why Michael doesn’t want to go, hospitals are creepy and stuff, but if he can’t rememberanything, he really needs to go to the hospital.

I look up at him again, still amazed at how quickly he fell asleep. Basically the second that his head hit the pillow he was out. He must have been exhausted.

All to come and see me.

I pinch myself again, and see that Michael is still there, in my bed.

Michael Clifford is is my bed OH SWEET BABY JESUS WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS???

Calm down Andy, or you might start actuallyyelling.

“I’m calm, I’m calm.” I whisper to myself, even though it’s a complete lie.

I log onto Twitter, and see if the boys know that Michael’s missing, I mean of course they have to, he’s their bandmate!

They’ve been tweeting the regular stuff about writing with other celebrities, or being excited for the next show. I guess that they’re hiding it, so that the fans don’t freak out.

I hurry and type out a DM to Ashton, him being the only member that follows me. When he did first follow me, I was freaking out, and having the worst ‘seizure’ Brandon’s ever experienced.

I quickly type it up,

'Hey, Ashton, if you didn’t know this, Micheal’s not with you. He showed up at my doorstep today, and can’t remember, please reply.’

I send it, hoping that he might see it, even though I know deep down that he won’t.

Glancing at the time, I start to freak out, because Brandon will be home in less than an hour. Tiffany won’t be long after him, then the parent’s and Ruth will get home a little while after them. If they see him, or even know that he was here, they’ll definitely freak out, and I don’t even want to think of what they’ll do to me.

I jump to my feet, and put my Mac on my dresser. And scribble a note out to Michael.

'My famliy is going to be home soon, if I’m not in my room, don’t look for me,

***DO NOT MAKE ANY NOISE

-Andy’

I place it on my dresser, so he will definitely see it if he does wake up and I’m not in my room. The only think I know about this whole situation, is that no one can know that he’s here.

Taking two stairs at a time, I make my way upstairs to our kitchen. Food is out everywhere, along with dirty dishes, and my school work. I quickly shove the food into their containers and back into the fridge. Placing the dishes into the dishwasher without even rinsing them, one of my moms biggest pet peeves, but I don’t care at the moment.

I shove all of my schoolwork into my bag, not caring if stuff gets crumpled. The kitchen is spotless, so I make my way downstairs. I put my backpack in my room, before heading into my bathroom to see how dirty it is.

There’s a few towels out of place, and the shower curtain is wide open. My tooth brush and tooth paste are strewn across the counter. Letting out a breath, I clean everything up, making sure that mom wouldn’t bug me about it. Calling her a neat freak would be an insult to neat freaks. She’s a cleaning Nazzi, and if it’s not perfect, she’ll go off lecturing me about being lazy and sloppy, for an hour. It’s happened before, and believe me, it’s not a pleasant experience.

I check on the washer, to see if Michaels clothes are nearly clean. They are clean, so I throw them in the drier, along with some of my clean clothes, so it doesn’t look like I’m just cleaning guys clothes, because that wouldn’t go down well.

I hear the back door open, and my eyes go wide, how can be home already?

“Why are you home so early?” I question as I make my way upstairs.

“Your mom wants us to have a family talk or some shit.” He rolls his eyes, and walks into his room.

A groan escapes my lips, “And she didn’t bother to tell me?”

He comes back into the kitchen, and shrugs. Brandon opens the fridge, grabbing the box of left over pizza. My eyes go wide as he opens it.

“Holy shit Andy, were you hungry much?” He scoffs, taking a huge bite of a piece of pizza.

“Schools lunch is shit you know that.” I quickly make up a lie.

“Yeah, but there were four more pieces in there last night, you cow.” He contradicts himself, because a huge piece of food comes flying out of his mouth as he insults me.

“Whatever you say.” I pat his back, pulling out a glass to get a drink. Who knew that hiding a famous guitar player in your bedroom would be so much work? Not me, that’s for sure.

“Water’s not the only thing you’re thirsty for.” Brandon sniggers.

“Yeah, you and Mr. Hall seemed to be getting pretty cozy.” Tiffany joins in as she walks in the back door.

I roll my eyes, and start to sing the nonsense of what sounds like the part of Lion King where they’re rising Simba into the air. I continue singing, and rise both of my middle fingers, flipping both of them off.

Tiffany huffs, and tosses her hair over her shoulder, bumping into me as she struts into her bedroom. She’s always such a heinous bitch to me, but I understand why. Her and Brandon’s mom died of cancer a few years ago, and out of the blue their dad marries my mom. They can’t take it out on their dad, or my mom, so why not take it out on me?

Still, it sucks, massively. I gulp down another drink of water, wondering if Michael’s still asleep or not. I mean he should be, he looked like he could sleep for a month.

The sound of the garage interrupts my thoughts on the sleeping guitarist in my room. My mom’s car pulls in first, followed by Phillips. I fill up my water, knowing that I’ll most likely need something to help me buy time to think.

Mom enters the back door, with Ruth in her car seat.

“Ruthie!” I squeal, and run over to her, taking her from mom.

“Well hello to you too Andrea.” Phillip jokes, making me cringe when he uses my full name.

“Phil.” I nod at him, and return my attention to Ruth. Phillip lets out a sigh, because I used his nickname, that no one but me calls him. He’s told me numerous times that he hates the nickname, but I only use it when he calls me by my full name.

“Everyone be at the kitchen table in five minutes.” Mom’s voice calls from their bedroom.

Some serious shit is about to go down.

I hear my phone vibrate, and look around for it. I must have forgot about it when Michael showed up, because I find it on the counter, where I set it after Adam called me. Speak of the devil.

Adam’s Apple

'Good luck tonight ;)’

I’m confused by the text, so I don’t bother to reply to it. Ruth squeals in my arms, and turns to face me. She starts tuggig on my pony tail, causing my head to ache. Her face when she see’s me in pain is so adorable, that it’s worth it.

“Tiffany, get out here!” Phillip calls. I look up to see that everyone’s at the table, but Tiffany.

She stomps out of her room in leggings and a Nike t shirt. She always wheres her cheerleading uniform to school, which confuses me because, man those things look tight and very uncomfortable. She slumps down in her usual seat, which is as far away from me as she can get, with an irritated huff.

“I’ve heard that you three aren’t getting along too well.” Mom laces her fingers together, staring seriously at Tiffany, Brandon, and I.

I snort, “That’s an understatement.” Which earns a glare from everyone at the table over the age of two.

“Andy’s just kidding, we get a long great! Can I go back to my room now?” Tiffany uses her fake voice, like she always does when she’s talking to my mom.

“Nice try, but no.” Phillip gives Tiffany a stern look.

“Brandon?” Mom asks him, to get his opinion.

“Everything’s fine.” He crosses his arms across his chest, and looks extremely bored.

Mom sighs, rubbing her temples, “I got a call from Adam today, saying that Andy thinks everyone here hates her, well besides Ruth of course. Is that true Andy?”

Now is when my glass of water comes in handy. I press it to my lips, taking very slow sips, whilst plotting how to murder Adam in my head.

Mom’s still looking at me expectantly when I swallow.

“Yup.” I pop the 'p’, as if it’s no big deal that I think everyone hates me. Which it isn’t that big of a deal, I understand why, I kinda hate me too.

“Well, that could not be farther from the truth. Everyone here loves one another, and no onehateseach other, understand?” She says, as if it’s a rule, and we have to love each other, and we’re not allowed to hate each other.

“Yes ma'am.” The three of us reply in sync.

“And to make sure that everyone believes that, from now on, every other weekend we’re going to do something as a family. No friends, electronics, or whining is allowed. It’s just going to be us spending time together.”

“What?” Tiffany screeches at the same time that Brandon and I ask, “No electronics?”

“This is the rule from now on, and there’s no if’s and’s, or but’s about it. I do not want to hear any whining either.”

We’re all left speechless, with our mouths wide open.

“This will commence next weekend, because frankly I’m too tired to do anything this weekend.” She announces.

I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing that today never happened.

“You’re excused.” Phillip says after a few seconds. I immediately get up, and take Ruth to her room. After placing a quick kiss on her forehead I hurry down to my room, trying to hold back the tears, but I fail.

They’re streaking down my face by the time I’ve shut my door. I glance over and see that Michael is still asleep, and a wave of relief washes over me. If he was awake, I don’t even know what I’d do.

I collapse onto the ground, leaning my back against my dresser. Small sobs escape my lips, along with a wave of ugly crying. I haven’t cried this hard in a while, but everything’s crashing down, and now I’m left to deal with my problems.

My entire family hates me, my father’s in jail, school is hell, I have no friends, and no one to talk to, I can never sleep, I’m constantly getting called hurtful names by everyone, and I pretend that I don’t care, but I do, deep down I do, and I hate it. Adam tried to make things better, but he only made it worse. Every other weekend is going to be hell, and there’s nothing I can do about it. And to top it all of Michael fucking Clifford showed up at my front door, asking for me, saying that he can’t remember anything.

“Andrea, are you okay?” Michael’s sleepy voice, and his hand touching my shoulder makes me jump.

I scoot away from him, and shove my palm across my cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“I’m fine.” my voice betrays me and cracks.

“You sure?” He looks concerned, but I look away quickly, refusing to meet his eyes.

I nod, and stand up, “I’ll be right back, stay here and be quiet.”

He doesn’t say anything, so I quickly leave, making sure to close the door behind me. I head straight for my bathroom. My knuckles turn white from the grip I have on the counter as I stare at my reflection.

I’ve got bright red eyes, and tear tracks on my cheeks. I look as crappy as I did all day, but I’ve given up caring about how I look a long time ago. I splash some water on my face, and dry it quickly. As I exit the bathroom, mom’s walking out of the laundry room.

“Honey, take care of your laundry.” She says the seconds she see’s me. When she looks at me closer, I look away, and walk past her. I know that she saw that I was crying, but of course she doesn’t say anything.

The sound of her footsteps become quieter as she walks up the stairs. I let out a breath, and lazily take all of my clothes out of the drier. I shove them into a basket, and walk back into my room.

Michael’s looking at the posters on my wall, of bands and musicians that I like. I’ve also hung up some of my drawings or paintings that I really liked. He’s staring at one of my darkest drawings. It’s of a cell, and a man sits in it. A little girl stands on the outside, gripping on the bars. The man had tears streaming down his face, but the little girl looks angry.

I drew it when I was in my stage of hating my father, and myself. One reason I hated him was because he was drunk, and killed someone. My mother was the main reason I hated him though. She hated him with all of the hatred in her body, and she only pushed me into hating him. She convinced me that he was a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man and a father.

I believed her, but eventually I matured, and saw it how it was. One huge accident. My dad didn’t mean to kill the girl. He shouldn’t have been driving in the first place, but that was poor judgment, because of the alcohol. Him and mom had been arguing a lot, which caused him to drink.

It was all a big mess that I can’t forget about.

“Your clothes are clean.” I clear my throat, shoving the memories to the back of my head.

Michael turns around swiftly, holding a hand to his heart, “Shit, you scared me.”

“Did you not hear the door open and close?”

He shakes his head, “I guess not.”

“Well, here they are. You can wear Adam’s clothes if you want though. Speaking of the bastard.” I hand Michael his clothes, and pull out my phone, sending him an angry text.

'Thanks a lot asshole.’

“Adam’s your..?” Michael looks at me confused.

“Dumbass of an older brother. He’s in college now.” I explain, as I read my new text.

Adam

'Well I wasn’t just going to say nothing, and let you be miserable. What happened?’

I roll my eyes, and quickly type,

'Your good deed backfired. We have to spend every other weekend as a family, no friends, or electronics. It’s going to be hell.’

Adam

'It won’t be that bad. It’s every other weekend.’

My cheeks puff out in anger

'Yeah well when I’m getting murdered by them I won’t have my phone to call you and tell you how bad it is.’

He doesn’t reply, so I shove my phone into my pocket. I look up to see Michael staring at me, and jump, because I momentarily forgot that he was there.

“Oh! Yeah, about you…” I trail off, blushing lightly.

He smiles, then his face turns concerned, “What are we going to do?”

“That’s a great question.” I laugh, but it’s the wrong time to use my terrible sense of humor, “To be completely honest, I have no fucking clue. But I do know, that no one in this house, but me, can know that you’re here. So you have to be completely silent when they’re here, got it?”

Michael nods, “Got it.”

-

Authors note:

Chapter 3!

For some reason the last chapter didn’t post all the way on wattpad but I fixed it, so It’s complete now :D

So I write the chapter on wattpad, as a draft, then when I’m ready to post it, I copy it all, and paste it to a draft on tumblr, and for some reason, it doesn’t bold or italicize anything, which is a real big pain my ass so I have to go back and redo everything that’s bolded or italicized, which I do a lotof ;) do you guys know why it does that/ have a way to make it not do that? 

What do you think about Andy’s family? I think they’re terrible (aside from Adam, and Ruth, I love them) , but they have a reason to be.

Speaking of Adam, I chose Dylan O’ Brien (heart eyes to the max) to play him, and there’s a picture of him on the side/top! He’s a smart college student, and he has a hobby that you guys don’t know about yet ;)

Give it some notes, and message me if you enjoyed this chapter!

have a great day/night/life

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY if you don’t have a Valentine, then be your own Valentine, because you’re amazing and you have a cute butt ;)

love ya

HTJ

p.s. the next chapter of Dollhouse is coming soon, and shit’s about to go down, I’m excited, are you?

Forgotten Memories
2. How Ironic

Michael fucking Clifford my fucking door. What the fuck? Am I hallucinating? Have scientists from the future created him as a hologram to play tricks on me? Is Ashton Kutcher good to jump out and say that I’ve been punk’d? Is he even really outside my door?

Why don’t you open the damn door and find out you imbecile?

I listen to myself and slowly grasp the doorknob again, turning it, then pulling it open slowly. The first thing I see is bright red hair, again.

“I’m sorry, but are you Andrea Ross?” He asks again, and as I get over the shock of him saying my name, I notice that he’s clutching a familiar piece of paper in his hands.

“Um.. Yes..” I finally speak, and it comes out like a question.

His eyes widen, “You are?”

“Well according to my birth certificate…” I trail off, my terrible sense of humor coming in at the worst time possible.

“What?” His eyebrows knit together, causing his eyebrow piercing to wiggle.

I shake my head, mentally face palming, “never mind, you loon like you’ve been hit by a train, do you want to come in?”

I’m inviting Michael Clifford into my house. Must. Contain. Inner. Fangirl.

“Please.” He breaths, walking in towards me.

He smells of sweat, and dirt, and I’m still amazed by it. He stares at me, and I snap out of my thoughts.

“Do you want some water, food, a shower?” I offer.

He nods, “Yes!”

I don’t know which he’s saying yes to, so I just assume all of the above. I hurry up the stairs signaling him to follow me, and he does. I grab the largest glass we have and fill it up with water, and he drinks it as if he hasn’t drank water before.

I open our fridge and pull out left overs from everything we’ve had to eat all week. He goes straight for the pizza moaning as he gets it in his mouth, not caring that it’s cold.

Here I am, the inner me having a complete (freak out) because Michael fucking Clifford is sitting at my counter moaning a he eats my cold leftover pizza. On the outside I’m freaked out, but calm and not fangirling, which takes a ton of self control.

I keep looking at the paper he’s still holding with a death grip. It looks so familiar, but I just can’t remember what it is. I try to casually read what it says, but I have no luck.

I clear my throat, “Not to um, be rude here or anything, but why are you here? I’m still waiting for Ashton Kutcher to jump out of here somewhere, because let’s face it, this is crazy, your favorite band member doesn’t just come showing up at your doorstep out of the blue, that’s just crazy. Did someone hire you to come here? Are you from the future?”

He stares at me, looking extract confused, while he finished chewing his pizza.

“I um… I don’t know.” His cheeks turn light pink.

I ignore that I just made Michael Clifford blush, “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

He scratches the back of his neck, “I um, I can’t remember anything.”

The look on my face must be pretty amusing because he laughs lightly, before getting serious again, “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth. I woke up a few days ago from this guy poking me, asking if I was okay. My head was in so much pain, and I couldn’t remember anything, at all. All I had was this,” he waves the paper, “and a bunch of money in my pocket.”

I process what he just said. From what it sounds like, he has amnesia, how fucking ironic.

“Can I see that?” I point to the paper.

He looks at it once more before handing it to me, as if it’s the most precious thing in the whole world.

I instantly recognize what it is. A few months before the accident, I wrote 5sos a letter, and sent it, hoping that they’d come to my city and perform so I could see them live. That was three years ago, and Michael still has it?

“Why do you still have this? I wrote it three years ago.” I look up at Michael.

He frowns, “I don’t know, I just woke up with it in, my um,” he pats his pocket, and looks as if he’s deep in thought.

“Pocket?”

“Yes!” He looks so happy, then sad.

“Why did you come here though? Why didn’t you go find someone that could help you?”

“I thought that maybe you could. I thought that because of this letter, I knew you, but just couldn’t remember. I thought that when I finally got here, I’d remember everything, but I didn’t.”

It suddenly hits me, that Michael Clifford has amnesia, and he hasn’t seen a doctor.

“We need to get you to a doctor.” I rush around trying to find my shoes.

“Wait! No!” He exclaims looking panicked.

I stop immediately, “You seriously need to see a doctor if you can’t remember anything.”

He chews on his lower lip, looking at his hands, “I um, have this fear of um,” he blinks a few times then snaps, “hospitals, that’s the word. See I’m remembering! Within a few days I’ll remember everything and be just fine!”

I stare at him intently, “Then what now?”

He takes another drink of water, then looks up at me, “I don’t know.” He shrugs.

I rub my temples, trying to think of something.

“Okay, well I’m sure you need to take a shower, right?”

He nods.

“If you’re done eating, you can do that now. I’m sure I can find some clean clothes that would fit you.” I swallow.

This is actually happening. Michael Clifford is going to shower in my house, and wear my brothers old clothes.

“Okay.” He stands up, gesturing for me to lead the way. I make my way downstairs to Adam’s old room. Mom’s turned it into a workout room for everyone, but I rarely come in here. I open the closet, grabbing one of Adams old t shirts, some sweats, and I blush when I find some boxers. I quickly put them in between the pants and shirt, and grab a pair of socks before turning around, and handing them to him.

“The bathroom is the first door on the left, there are extra towels in the closet. Just incase you don’t remember, shampoo and conditioner are for your hair, and body wash is, well, pretty self explanatory, you know to wash your body.” I shrug, playing with my fingers as I ramble on.

“Alright. First door on the left right?” He questions.

I just nod, and watch him as he disappears out the door. The first thing I do when I hear the shower turn on, is do my surprised/happy dance thing, Brandon calls it me having a seizure. When I catch my reflection in the mirror, my actions instantly still.

My eyes are still red from crying, but they’re not bloodshot. I’ve still got bags under my eyes, making me look like a zombie with glasses. My hair is poking out of my bun, and my wardrobe is anything but classy.

I hurry to my room, and brush out my hair, tying it up. I put some concealer on the blue and purple spots under my eyes, which a rare action. But hey, Michael Clifford is currently naked in my bathroom, I’m gonna put some make up on.

My room is a disaster, so I tidy it as much as I can. I throw all my dirty clothes into the hamper, making sure that my underwear is completely out of site. I make my bed slightly, and kick everything else into my closet.

I still hear the water running, so I pull out my Macbook, one pro of having a super rich step father that’s trying to get on your good side, and look up Amnesia.

Of course, the top result is 5 Seconds of Summer’s song.

Oh, the irony.

I skip the Wikepedia link that shows up, and click on the third one.

“Amnesia refers to the loss of memories, such as facts, information and experiences. Though having no sense of who you are is a common plot device in movies and television, real-life amnesia generally doesn’t cause a loss of self-identity.”

I keep read about the different types and causes of amnesia, and I look read about the one that sounds most like what Michael has.

“Transient global amnesia is a sudden, temporary episode of memory loss that can’t be attributed to a more common neurological condition, such as epilepsy or stroke.

During an episode of transient global amnesia, your recall of recent events simply vanishes, so you can’t remember where you are or how you got there. In addition, you may not remember anything about what’s happening in the here and now.

Consequently, you may keep repeating the same questions because you don’t remember the answers you’ve just been given. You may also draw a blank when asked to remember things that happened a day, a month or even a year ago.

With transient global amnesia, you do remember who you are, and recognize the people you know well. But that doesn’t make your memory loss less disturbing.”

I scroll through, reading every word. A tap sounds on my bedroom door, causing me to jump.

"Jesus, you take quick showers.” I mutter.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure if this was your room.” He clears his throat.

Once I look up, my eyes widen. His hair is wet, and down, looking more natural. He’s wearing one of Adams old band t shirts, which looks like one that he already owns. He even makes sweatpants look good, which amazes me.

I notice the pile of dirty clothes in his hands. I quickly bookmark the website I’m on and close my laptop.

“I’ll throw those in the wash for you.” I hurry over to him, grabbing the clothes out of his grip.

Our hands brush, and goosebumps form on my arms.

I just touched Michael Clifford, and now I’m washing his clothes.

Once again, the inside of me and the outside are two completely different people.

“Thanks.” He comments as he follows me to the laundry room.

Once everything’s running, I look at the clock.

“We only have two hours until Brandon gets home, what are we going to do?” I start to pace back and forth.

“Who’s Brandon?” He says the name as if it’s some disease.

“My annoying as hell step brother. If he sees you here, who knows what he’ll do. He’ll definitely tell Phillip, saying that I kidnapped you or something crazy, plus he hates your band, so that doesn’t make it any better.” I continue to nervous ramble to myself, until he interrupts me.

“Wait who’s Phillip, and what do you mean by ‘your band’?” The confusion on his face hurts me.

“First of all Phillip is my step dad, and secondly, you don’t remember the band?” My heart breaks when he shakes his head.

I wonder if they’re freaking out at much as me right now.

“Come here.” I walk out of the laundry room, and back to my room.

I pull out everything that I own that has their face or logo on it. Posters, albums, EP’s, shirts, bracelets, everything. I sit down cross legged on my bed, signalling for Michael to do the same. He slumps down right next to me. I can feel his body heat radiating onto me, I can smell my vanilla body wash and my apple shampoo that he used.

I’m surprised by the amount of self control that I have.

“You’re the lead guitarist in 5 Seconds of Summer, you don’t remember that?” I point to him in the picture of the band on their self titled album.

He shakes his head, staring intently at the picture.

I sit up more, looking right at him, “Do you even remember your name?”

“Michael Clifford.” He answers immediately.

“Really? Oh my god, that’s amazing! Do you know your birthday?” I stand up, staring to gain hope.

He shakes his head, “No. I only know that my name is Michael, because of the paper. There were three other names, but none of them felt right”

I frown, “Oh, um okay. Do you remember anything else? Anything?” I’m desperate for him to say yes.

He picks up the most recent poster I have of them, where his hair in the picture is the actual color on his head. Michael stares at it for a while, then sighs and shakes his head, “Nothing.”

Michael then lets out a yawn, and I nearly smack myself.

“Oh my god you must be exhausted. Do you remember when you woke up, or where you woke up?”

He squints his eyes, looking deep in thought, “Um it was three days ago, I think, and the place was, New…. New.”

"York?”

He nods, “Yeah, New York, with the tall buildings, and so many people.” He grimaces.

“How did you get here?” Considering I live very far from New York.

“Um buses, trains, taxi’s, you know.” He shrugs.

I look at him amazed, “All to get here?”

He nods, “It was the only thing I could think of to do.”

I let out a breath, and shake my head, “Wow. Okay, well you look exhausted, so go a head and go to sleep. While I sit here and try not to watch you.” I mumble the last part to myself, thrusting myself out of my bed.

“Wait, what are you going to do?” His eyebrows furrow together.

I blush, then clear my throat, “I’m going to figure out what the hell we’re going to do.”

-

Authors Note:

Chapter 2! Yay! So, tell me what you think, by giving it some notes!

I’m excited to write this fanfic, it’s going to be more of a comedy than my other fanfics, because Andy is hilarious.

Speaking of Andy, I chose Emily Rudd, to play her, and there is a picture of her on the side/top. I Imagine her with shorter curly hair, but imagine her however you want :)

Also! this is just so I don’t get charged for plagiarism or whatever, the website I used to talk about amnesia is

http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/amnesia/basics/symptoms/con-20033182

p.s I’m still figuring out how I want each chapter set up, so bear with me.

Ummm idk what else to say.. so!

Have a great day/night/life.

Hannah

1. Not Just Another Day

The number one most irritating noise in the entire existence of the universe, is the noise of an alarm clock buzzing. Because that’s all it does, is buzz and buzz and buzz until you finally roll over and whack it hard enough to get it to shut up. I mean crying babies at 4 am is a close second to the most annoying thing, believe me, I know exactly what that’s like, but alarm clocks are the most “I’d rather be deaf,” annoying sounds in the world.

Yes it’s Friday and I should be waking up like Cinderella, but no, I’m definitely Ana in the comparison of how realistic people sleep compared to Disney princesses. Even if I am a drooling, hair everywhere, mess like Ana, there’s no way in hell I’m singing after I get ready. Who even does that, life isn’t High School Musical, you can’t just sing whenever you want.

If I did sing in every situation I could, everyone in the world would be deaf. Then they wouldn’t have to deal with alarm clocks. Maybe I’d go deaf if I sang more.

“Andy, get up!”

Queue the third most irritating noise in the entire existence of the universe.

I let out a huge groan, and fall out of bed. I literally fall, like I thought there was more bed, but nope. So here I sit, lying on the false carpet of my cold bedroom, questioning life. It’s 6:53, on a Friday morning, do I really have to wake up and go to school?

“Andy, now, you can’t be late again.”

Yes, I really have to wake up. Groaning again I thrust myself up off my floor and trudge out of my room, to the bathroom. Thank his that I’m the only one who sleeps in the basement, because there’s no way I could share a bathroom with any of my siblings.

Moms in the laundry room, trying to find something to wear like always. I don’t understand why she cares so much, she just sits behind a desk all day, aside from when she’s selling people houses. All I ever wear are sweats and on my good days maybe some jeans.

Today is not one of my good days. After I finish in the bathroom, I zombie walk to my bedroom, hearing my mother sigh before I hear her footsteps go up the stairs. I shut my door and get dressed, throwing on a fresh pair on sweats, and a hoody over the t shirt I’m wearing now. I throw my hair up, not caring what it looks like. After I throw on some socks and shoes, I grab my phone, keys, and backpack.

“Andy!” My mother screams for the third time this morning.

“I’m coming!” I shout back as I stomp up the stairs.

“Watch your tone with me young lady.” Mom scolds me, which I return with an eye roll.

“Bye mom! Have a wonderful day!” I shout sarcastically as I slam the back door, and open the drivers side door of my crappy Honda.

“God it’s about time.” Brandon sighs, turning on the radio as soon as I turn on the car.

“Oh shut up you little insect.” I whisper and smack his hand away from the radio.

I glance in the rear view mirror to make sure that Ruth is safe in her car seat. After I finally pick a good radio station, I pull out of our garage and head to Ruth’s nanny. Since she’s only a year and a half old, and both of the parents in our household work full time, she goes to the nanny every day while everyone’s at school and practice, etc.

Once I’m outside of Jenny’s house, and the car is off I carefully take Ruth out of the car, in order not to wake her. Even though she is a deep sleeper, waking her up while she’s sleeping peacefully is not a good idea.

“Good morning Andy!” Jenny chirps in her irritating barbie doll voice.

“Hi.” I glance up at her, then return my gaze to Ruth.

“Okay, Ruthie, see you tonight. Have fun with Barbie.” I whisper as I kiss her forehead.

Reluctantly I hand her over to Jenny.

“See you Monday morning! Have a great day Andy!” She widely grins at me.

I nod at her and walk away. I continually am amazed that no matter how loud or how much Jenny talks, Ruth never wakes up. But when I even talk in my normal voice, she wakes up screaming.

As I drive away from Jenny’s house, I crank the radio, and drum my fingers on the steering wheel. Brandon groans, and I grin evilly, then I start to sing (more like screech) along with the song. His hands immediately go to his ears, as he shouts at me to shut up.

Two seconds later we pull up to our school, right next to the gym entrance where I always drop him off. I slam on the brakes and turn town the radio.

“Get out.”

“Gladly, god you’re such a freak!” He exclaims then slams the door and runs into the building.

I roll my eyes, and drive away, completely use to the names that he, and everyone else call me.

Once I’m at Starbucks my mood brightens slightly. Coffee makes everything better.

“The usual.” I say to the worker, and he punches it into the computer, knowing my order by heart, since I do come here every day; a caramel macchiato and a plain buttered croissant.

By the time I’ve driven back to the school, found a parking spot, and eaten my croissant the tardy bell rang ten minutes ago. I lazily stroll through the school continuing to sip on my warm coffee. Eventually I end up in the office, signing a late slip. I sloppily write that “Starbucks or school, you choose.” As the excuse, and once it’s signed by an ornery woman who’s name I still haven’t cared enough to learn, I head to math.

“Ms. Ross, how nice of you to join us.” my balding math teach exclaims once I hand him my slip.

“It’s great to be here, Bill.” I wave my had behind me as I walk to my seat, earning a few snickers from the class.

“As I was saying…” Blah blah blah, it’s too early to think about math right now.

I doodle all over my binder as Mr. Reed teaches something I will most likely never use in life.

No wonder I’m failing this class.

I sigh, and attempt to pay attention to what he’s saying but it’s so incredibly boring.

When the bell finally rings, I lazily exit the room, ignoring the looks that Mr. Reed. The next hour I have is Financial Literacy, and I don’t pay attention in that, Physics, or English. Lunch rolls around, and I go through my usual routine; buy nasty food that is only half edible, find an empty seat, eat the stuff that doesn’t taste like cardboard, dump the rest, sit by locker until the bell rings, listening to my musical choice of the day during the whole lunch hour of course. I would go out to have lunch, but I spend my allotment of cash on gas and StarBucks everyday, so sadly I can’t afford the luxury of McDonald’s for lunch.

Gym is torture like always, especially after lunch, like who would put a child through torture like that? Today we played dodge ball, so double torture.

Finally, the last hour of the school day arrives, and it’s the only class that I actually enjoy; Art.

“What are you working on today, Andy?” Ms. Abbott surprises me, making me jump slightly.

“Just a black and white self portrait.” I answer, slightly embarrassed.

“It shows a lot of emotion, you’re a true artist, keep it up and you’ll be famous.” She grins at me, then walks away.

I stare at the dark drawing I front of me. It shows me lying flat on my back in the middle of the road, dark clouds above me, and rain falling, the tiny droplets resting on my face. I used to paint, and draw, with loads of different colors, they were all so bright and happy.

That’s not how it is anymore. For three years now, anything I’ve done has always been in black and white. Ever since that damn night, that changed my life forever.

“Andy, go call your father, will you? He should be home by now, dinner’s getting cold.” Mom ask’s, rubbing her temples. She’d been getting migraines lately, and all she wanted to do is have a nice family dinner. We haven’t had one in months, because dad started working later, and mom has been to tired from her work.

I look over at Adam, but he’s too busy texting Katie, his actually serious girlfriend. They’ve been together for a month now, and he’s happier than ever, but he’s constantly with her. Not that it matters, he thinks I’m an annoying pest, so he never is around me anyway.

In the family room, we have a phone, and that’s the only one I’m allowed to use. Mom doesn’t allow me on hers, and I’ve never touched Adam’s, not that I want to, who knows what a 17 year old teenage boy has on their phone. I dial dad’s number, and wait for it to ring.

“What?” he asks gruffly.

“Mom wants to know when you’ll be home.”

“I’m almost there, probably ten minutes, you can all eat without me.” He slurs, and I know he’s been drinking, again.

“Okay, drive safe, love you.” I sigh.

“Love you too.” He grumbles, then hangs up.

I walk back into the kitchen, “He says to eat with him, that he’d be ten minutes.”

Mom sighs, “Go ahead, I’m not hungry anymore.” She then leaves, making me frown.

I serve myself some cold Ziti, and chew on the cold pasta. I glance up at Adam, to see him shoving food in his mouth, whilst texting.

“Who knew you multitask.” I mutter.

“Shut up tiny.” He sends me a quick glare, then focuses back on his phone.

I sigh again, and push away my food. I stand up and leave the table, heading straight to my room. The walls are light pink, with flowers all over them. I’ve kept bugging mom and dad about changing it, to more mature colors, instead of keeping the colors I picked out when I was six. They always brush it off, saying we’ll redo it soon.

I grab my sketch pad from my table, and collapse on my bed. Paging through everything I’ve ever drawn, I stop on my latest one. The back of a girl, who has long, gorgeous blonde hair. She’s holding a white rose, and has loads of different kinds of flowers in her hair. She’s standing in a field of gorgeous flowers, and the sun is shining down on her.

I’m reminded of Rapunzel, but a more modern version. I’ve colored it with my new pastel colored pencils I saved up for, and love. Once I’ve finished the sky, I start on the field, and here the phone ring.

“Hello?” Mom’s the one that answers the phone.

“This is she.”

“What?” her voice is light, and shocked, and my stomach instantly drops.

“I’ll be there right away.” I can tell that she’s about to start crying.

I walk out of my room, and see her hang up the phone with her hand on her mouth.

“Mom what happened?” Adam asks, standing up.

“Your father, he was driving, and he didn’t see the girl crossing the street. They said that he was drunk.”

My eyes widen and a gasp leaves my lips.

“I need to go to him.” Mom’s already got her keys in her hand, and is slipping on her shoes.

“We’re coming with you.” I say, but mom shakes her head urgently.

“No, there’s not enough time, you two stay here.” She decides, and is out the door.

I look at Adam pleadingly.

“Did he sound drunk when you talked to him?” his voice is completely serious.

“Adam, you kn-”

“Did he sound drunk?!” He shouts, causing me to flinch.

I just nod, and look away from him.

“And you didn’t bother to tell us that?!”

“I didn’t want to stress out mom more, and you never listen to me!” tears form in my eyes.

“If it was about him I would have.” he’s not shouting anymore, but what he says hurts me, causing a tear to stream down my face.

Adam walks away, leaving me alone in my thoughts.

We’re at our house, without a single word from anyone for two hours. Two hours of self loathing, and blaming myself. Finally the phone rings, and Adam’s the first one to it.

“Hello?”

I move closer to Adam, to try and hear what’s going on. He pushes me away, sending me a glare.

“Seriously? Okay, hurry and be safe.” He hangs up and starts to walk away.

I grab his arm, turning him around with all my strength, “What did she say?”

He pushes me away, making me repel back and hit the wall, causing a sharp pain to shudder down my back, “She’s coming home, alone.”

I look up at Adam shocked, that he actually hurt me like this. He walks away without another word. I slide down the wall in shock, of everything that’s going on. The second the door opens, I’m to my feet, asking mom what happened.

We all end up at the kitchen table, that still has our cold dinner on it.

“You’re father was arrested for vehicular homicide. He hit a little girl who was crossing the street, and she died instantly.”

I’m shocked, while Adam opens his mouth immediately.

“Was he drunk?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing the answer already.

“Yes, he was driving while intoxicated.”

“Jesus Andy this is all your fault!” He shouts, standing up.

“What?” mom asks, completely lost.

“Andy knew that dad was drunk when she talked to him on the phone, and just like the child she is, she didn’t bother to tell either of us!”

I look up at mom, with guilty eyes.

“Is this true?” She whispers.

“It’s not the first time, so I just assumed everything would be fine.” Oh how I wish I could disappear right now.

“Telling us could have prevented this Andrea, you could have prevented this.”

The look she gave me, is one I can see every day, and try to forget.

All I want to do is forget, but I never can.

My father was sentenced to fifteen years in prison. I haven’t gone to visit him, mom refuses to let me. I used to write him letters, but eventually mom stopped letting me. She despises him, and doesn’t want anything to do with him. Adam’s 21 now, so he can see him if he wants. He’s done it behind moms back once, made me promise not to tell her about it. I wanted to go with him so badly, but he wouldn’t let me.

Mom got married two years later, moved on real quickly. She never really loved dad, she just stuck with him because of me and Adam. She married a big shot pediatric surgeon, and is the happiest I’ve ever seen. Phillip, has two kids of his own. I got a new step sister, Tiffany, the head cheerleader that’s a senior at my school, she loathes me, and lives to make my life hell. Brandon, is the most irritating fifteen year old I’ve ever met. Him and his friends love to torment me, and prank me.

A few weeks after mom and Phillip got married, she announced that she was pregnant. Ruth looks like both mom and Bill, she’s got black hair, and bright blue eyes. She’s the only one in our house that doesn’t hate me.

“Andy?” Mrs. Abbott snaps her fingers in front of my face.

“Oh, sorry.” I blink and look up at her.

“The bell rang, schools out, go home so I can too and watch Gossip Girl.” She shoo’s me away, causing me to grin.

“See you tomorrow Jules.” I say over my shoulder as I leave the room, holding my sketchpad to my stomach.

“See you.” She answers.

It’s pretty sad when you’re art teacher is the person you talk to the most at school.

Sighing, I make my way out to my car, and drive straight home, excited for a few hours to be alone. Mom and Phillip have work, Tiffany always has cheer practice, and Brandon’s either at football or with his friends. I’m the one that doesn’t have a life and stays home everyday.

Not that I’m complaining, it’s great to be alone. I can blast my music, eat all I want, and not care about anything, sometimes I don’t even wear pants, because I don’t have to. It’s that great. Then they all come home eventually, and it goes back to normal.

My music suddenly turns off, and my phone starts to buzz. I look at it to see that Adam’s calling me.

“Adam!!!!” I scream.

“Jesus Andy, I’m gonna go deaf.”

“Well hello to you too.” I grumble, with a mouth full of leftover pizza we had for dinner last night.

“How are things?” He asks, knowing my situation at home.

I sigh, “Still the same, they all still hate me.”

“They don’t hate you Andy.” Adam groans.

“Yes they do.” I reply in sing song.

He sighs, “Ruth doesn’t, she adores you. How is the little booger?”

“She’s good, still going to Barbie’s house everyday.” I walk around the house, not knowing what else to do.

“Mom’s still working full time?” He sounds shocked.

“Yup.” I pop the ‘p’.

“God almighty, Phillip makes more than enough to support everyone, there’s no reason for her to be at work.” I can tell that he’s putting his face in his hands.

“She goes just so she doesn’t have to be around me.” I mumble.

“Andy.”

“Adam.” I copy his tone.

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Whatever you say. How’s college?” I change the topic, because I don’t want to talk about our mother, and I want to know how he’s doing.

“It’s great, the classes are a difficult, of course, but the parties, the girls, it’s great, you’d love it Andy.”

I scoff, “If it’s anything like high school I doubt that.”

“Do they still bring it up?” he immediately asks.

“Every damn day.”

Adam sighs, “I’m sorry Andy, they don’t even know the whole story, so just ignore them, you know it’s not your fault, right?”

I stay silent.

“Andy?”

“I could have prevented it Adam, you said so yourself.” My voice is weak, and on the verge of tears.

“Andy, it was three years ago, we’ve gone over and over this, it was not your fault at all. I was an ass back then, you of all people know that, but what I said was so wrong. Even if you did tell one of us, what would we have done, called him and had him get into an accident, and possibly die?”

“We could have went to pick him up, or had him catch a cab, or-” he interrupts me.

“Stop, just stop. You think about it a lot don’t you?”

“Constantly.”

Adam sighs, “have you been taking the pills?”

“I ran out of them months ago, and mom hasn’t bothered to notice that they’re empty.”

Adam’s quiet for a few moments, “Sometimes I think you’re better off living with me.”

“Me too.” I whisper.

“I have to go, my roommates home, and needs help with something. I’ll talk to you soon, just talk to mom will you? You need those pills Andy.” Adam speaks quickly, and seriously.

I hear noise in the background, “I will.” Complete lie.

“Okay, love you tiny.”

I smile at the old nickname, that I used to hate, “Love you too, Apple.”

Adam laughs lightly, then hangs up. I sigh, and toss my phone on the counter. I walk into the bathroom, and wince at the site of me. My eyes are bloodshot, with huge bags underneath them, my hair is all over, and my wardrobe is boring. Overall I look like a zombie. Turning on the water, I splash some on my face, trying to rid the bags under my eyes. I give up after a few seconds.

I stock downstairs to my bedroom, grabbing my glasses, so I can actually see the homework that I’m not going to do. I notice clothes all over my floor, and groan, knowing that mom will yell after me if she see’s it. Right as I start to clean up my room, the door bell rings.

My head snaps to my window, and I don’t see any car in my driveway. The doorbell rings again, and I start to walk slowly towards the door, slightly worried by it, because I never get anyone knocking on the door when I’m home alone.

The person knocks on the door, repeatedly.

“Calm your tit’s I’m coming!” I exclaim, as I make my way up the stairs. I open the door with a glare on my face.

“What do yo-” my voice stops working when I see a head full of bright red hair.

“Are you Andrea Ross?” his Australian accent sounds exhausted, and out of breath.

My eyes widen, not believing my eyes. Michael Clifford stands at my door step, looking like he just got hit by a bus. What do I do?

I slam the door in his face.

authors note:

New Michael fanfic! I know that he’s not in this chapter a ton, but it’s more of an introduction to Andy’s life than it is actually getting into the Michael part.

What do you guys think? If it gets enough attention and people tell me to continue, I will because I have some amazing ideas for it, and I’m excited.

I’m still writing Dollhouse (Luke), but I though this would be fun to write too. Both of the stories are going to be updated slower than usual though, because my life is so busy at the moment.

Vote & comment if you think I should continue it!

Hannahxx

Forgotten Memories

3. Asleep In My Bed

Here I sit, on the floor of my bedroom, trying not to freak out, while Michael Clifford lays snoring lightly between my sheets. Never in my whole life, would I have thought that anything like this would ever happen. I keep having to pinch myself, so I know it’s not a dream.

I’m sitting on my floor, with my legs crossed, and my Mac on my lap. I keep searching things about Amnesia, and on every website it says to go to a doctor immediately.

I completely understand why Michael doesn’t want to go, hospitals are creepy and stuff, but if he can’t remember anything, he really needs to go to the hospital.

I look up at him again, still amazed at how quickly he fell asleep. Basically the second that his head hit the pillow he was out. He must have been exhausted.

All to come and see me.

I pinch myself again, and see that Michael is still there, in my bed.

Michael Clifford is is my bed OH SWEET BABY JESUS WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS???

Calm down Andy, or you might actuallystartyelling.

“I’m calm, I’m calm.” I whisper to myself, even though it’s a complete lie.

I log onto Twitter, and see if the boys know that Michael’s missing, I mean of course they have to, he’s their bandmate!

They’ve been tweeting the regular stuff about writing with other celebrities, or being excited for the next show. I guess that they’re hiding it, so that the fans don’t freak out.

I hurry and type out a DM to Ashton, him being the only member that follows me. When he did first follow me, I was freaking out, and having the worst ‘seizure’ Brandon’s ever experienced.

I quickly type it up,

'Ashton, if you didn’t know this, Micheal’s not with you. He showed up at my doorstep today, and can’t remember anything. This is not a joke, I promise you, please reply soon.’

I send it, hoping that he might see it, even though I know deep down that he won’t.

Glancing at the time, I start to freak out, because Brandon will be home in less than an hour. Tiffany won’t be long after him, then the parent’s and Ruth will get home a little while after them. If they see him, or even know that he was here, they’ll definitely freak out, and I don’t even want to think of what they’ll do to me.

I jump to my feet, and put my Mac on my dresser. And scribble a note out to Michael.

My famliy is going to be home soon, if I’m not in my room, don’t look for me,

DO NOT MAKE ANY NOISE

-Andy

I place it on my dresser, so he will definitely see it if he does wake up and I’m not in my room. The only thing I’m certain about with this whole situation, is that no one can know that he’s here.

Taking two stairs at a time, I hurry up to the kitchen. Food is out everywhere, along with dirty dishes, and my school work. I quickly shove the food into their containers and back into the fridge. Placing the dishes into the dishwasher without even rinsing them, one of my moms biggest pet peeves, but I don’t care at the moment.

I shove all of my schoolwork into my bag, not caring if stuff gets crumpled. The kitchen is spotless, so I make my way downstairs. I put my backpack in my room, before heading into my bathroom to see how dirty it is.

There’s a few towels out of place, and the shower curtain is wide open. My toothbrush and toothpaste are strewn across the counter. Letting out a breath, I clean everything up, making sure that mom wouldn’t bug me about it. Calling her a neat freak would be an insult to neat freaks. She’s a cleaning Nazi, and if it’s not perfect, she’ll go off lecturing me about being lazy and sloppy, for an hour. It’s happened before, and believe me, it’s not a pleasant experience.

I check on the washer, to see if Michael’s clothes are clean. They are, so I throw them in the drier, along with some of my clean clothes, so it doesn’t look like I’m just cleaning guys clothes, because that wouldn’t go down well.

I hear the back door open, and my eyes go wide, how can be home already?

“Why are you home so early?” I question as I make my way upstairs.

“Your mom wants us to have a family talk or some shit,” He rolls his eyes, and walks into his room.

A groan escapes my lips, “And she didn’t bother to tell me?”

He comes back into the kitchen, and shrugs. Brandon opens the fridge, grabbing the box of leftover pizza. My eyes go wide as he opens it.

“Holy shit Andy, were you hungry much?” He scoffs, taking a huge bite of a piece of pizza.

“Schools lunch is shit, you know that,” I quickly make up a lie.

“Yeah, but there were four more pieces in there last night, you cow,” He contradicts himself, because a huge piece of food comes flying out of his mouth as he insults me.

“Whatever you say,” I pat his back, pulling out a glass to get a drink. Who knew that hiding a famous guitar player in your bedroom would be so much work? Not me, that’s for sure.

“Water’s not the only thing you’re thirsty for,” Brandon sniggers.

“Yeah, you and Mr. Hall seemed to be getting pretty cozy,” Tiffany joins in as she walks in the back door.

I roll my eyes, and start to sing the nonsense of what sounds like the part of Lion King where they’re rising Simba into the air. I continue singing, and rise both of my middle fingers, flipping both of them off.

Tiffany huffs, and tosses her hair over her shoulder, bumping into me as she struts into her bedroom. She’s always such a heinous bitch to me, but I understand why. Her and Brandon’s mom died of cancer a few years ago, and out of the blue their dad married my mom. They can’t take it out on their dad, or my mom, so why not take it out on me?

Still, it sucks, massively. I gulp down another drink of water, wondering if Michael’s still asleep or not. I mean he should be, he looked like he could sleep for a month.

The sound of the garage interrupts my thoughts on the sleeping guitarist in my room. My mom’s car pulls in first, followed by Phillips. I fill up my water, knowing that I’ll most likely need something to help me buy time to think.

Mom enters the back door, with Ruth in her car seat.

“Ruthie!” I squeal, and run over to her, taking her from mom.

“Well hello to you too Andrea,” Phillip jokes, making me cringe when he uses my full name.

“Phil,” I nod at him, and return my attention to Ruth. Phillip lets out a sigh, because I used his nickname, that no one but me calls him. He’s told me numerous times that he hates the nickname, but I only use it when he calls me by my full name.

“Everyone be at the kitchen table in five minutes,” Mom’s voice calls from their bedroom.

Some serious shit is about to go down.

I hear my phone vibrate, and look around for it. I must have forgot about it when Michael showed up, because I find it on the counter, where I set it after Adam called me. Speak of the devil.

Adam’s Apple

'Good luck tonight ;)’

I’m confused by the text, so I don’t bother to reply to it. Ruth squeals in my arms, and turns to face me. She starts tugging on my pony tail, causing my head to ache. Her face when she see’s me in pain is so adorable that it’s worth the pain.

“Tiffany, get out here!” Phillip calls. I look up to see that everyone’s at the table, but Tiffany.

She stomps out of her room in leggings and a Nike t shirt. She always wears her cheerleading uniform to school, which confuses me because, man those things look tight and very uncomfortable. She slumps down in her usual seat, which is as far away from me as she can get, with an irritated huff.

“I’ve heard that you three aren’t getting along too well,” Mom laces her fingers together, staring seriously at Tiffany, Brandon, and I.

I snort, “That’s an understatement,” Which earns a glare from everyone at the table over the age of two.

“Andy’s just kidding, we get along great! Can I go back to my room now?” Tiffany uses her fake voice, like she always does when she’s talking to my mom.

“Nice try, but no,” Phillip gives Tiffany a stern look.

“Brandon?” Mom asks him, to get his opinion.

“Everything’s fine,” He crosses his arms across his chest, and looks extremely bored.

Mom sighs, rubbing her temples, “I got a call from Adam today, saying that Andy thinks everyone here hates her, well besides Ruth of course. Is that true Andy?”

Now is when my glass of water comes in handy. I press it to my lips, taking very slow sips, whilst plotting how to murder Adam in my head.

Mom’s still looking at me expectantly when I swallow.

“Yup.” I pop the 'p’, as if it’s no big deal that I think everyone hates me. Which it isn’t that big of a deal, I understand why; I kinda hate me too.

“Well, that could not be farther from the truth. Everyone here loves one another, and no one hates each other, understand?” She says, as if it’s a rule, and we have to love each other, and we’re not allowed to hate each other.

“Yes ma'am,” The three of us reply in sync.

“And to make sure that everyone believes that, from now on, every other weekend we’re going to do something as a family. No friends, electronics, and no whining is allowed. It’s just going to be us spending time together as a family.”

“What?” Tiffany screeches at the same time that Brandon and I ask, “No electronics?”

“This is the rule from now on, and there’s no if’s and’s, or but’s about it. I do not want to hear any whining either.”

We’re all left speechless, with our mouths wide open.

“This will commence next weekend, because frankly I’m too tired to do anything this weekend,” She announces.

I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing that today never happened.

“You’re excused,” Phillip says after a few seconds. I immediately get up, and take Ruth to her room. After placing a quick kiss on her forehead I hurry down to my room, trying to hold back the tears, but I fail.

They’re streaking down my face by the time I’ve shut my door. I glance over and see that Michael is still asleep, and a wave of relief washes over me. If he was awake, I don’t even know what I’d do.

I collapse onto the ground, leaning my back against my dresser. Small sobs escape my lips, along with a wave of ugly crying. I haven’t cried this hard in a while, but everything’s crashing down, and now I have to deal with my problems.

My entire family hates me, my father’s in jail, school is hell, I have no friends, and no one to talk to, I can never sleep, I’m constantly getting called hurtful names by everyone, and I pretend that I don’t care, but I do, deep down I do, and I hate it. Adam tried to make things better, but he only made it worse. Every other weekend is going to be hell, and there’s nothing I can do about it. And to top it all of Michael fucking Clifford showed up at my front door, asking for me, saying that he can’t remember anything.

“Andrea, are you okay?” Michael’s sleepy voice, and his hand touching my shoulder makes me jump.

I scoot away from him, and shove my palm across my cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“I’m fine,” my voice betrays me and cracks.

“You sure?” He looks concerned, but I look away quickly, refusing to meet his eyes.

I nod, and stand up, “I’ll be right back, stay here and be quiet.”

He doesn’t say anything, so I quickly leave, making sure to close the door behind me. I head straight for my bathroom. My knuckles turn white from the grip I have on the counter as I stare at my reflection.

I’ve got bright red eyes, and tear tracks on my cheeks. I look as crappy as I have looked all day, but I’ve given up caring about how I look a long time ago. I splash some water on my face, and dry it quickly. As I exit the bathroom, mom’s walking out of the laundry room.

“Honey, take care of your laundry,” She says the second she see’s me. When she looks at me closer, I look away, and walk past her. I know that she saw that I was crying, but of course, she doesn’t say anything.

The sound of her footsteps become quieter as she walks up the stairs. I let out a breath, and lazily take all of my clothes out of the drier. I shove them into a basket, and walk back into my room.

Michael’s looking at the posters on my wall, of bands and musicians that I like. I’ve also hung up some of my drawings or paintings that I really liked. He’s staring at one of my darkest drawings. It’s of a cell, and a man sits in it. A little girl stands on the outside, gripping on the bars. The man had tears streaming down his face, but the little girl looks angry.

I drew it when I was in my stage of hating my father, and myself. One reason I hated him was because he was drunk, and killed someone. My mother was the main reason I hated him though. She hated him with all of the hatred in her body, and she only pushed me into hating him. She convinced me that he was a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man, and a father.

I believed her, but eventually I matured, and saw it how it was. One huge accident. My dad didn’t mean to kill the girl. He shouldn’t have been driving in the first place, but that was his poor judgment, because of the alcohol. Him and mom had been arguing a lot, which caused him to drink.

It was all a big mess that I can’t forget about.

“Your clothes are clean,” I clear my throat, shoving the memories to the back of my head.

Michael turns around swiftly, holding a hand to his heart, “Shit, you scared me.”

“Did you not hear the door open and close?”

He shakes his head, “I guess not.”

“Well, here they are. You can wear Adam’s clothes if you want though. Speaking of the bastard,” I hand Michael his clothes, and pull out my phone, sending him an angry text.

'Thanks a lot asshole.’

“Adam’s your..?” Michael looks at me confused.

“Dumbass of an older brother. He’s in college now,” I explain, as I read my new text.

Adam’s Apple

'Well I wasn’t just going to say nothing, and let you be miserable. What happened?’

I roll my eyes, and quickly type:

'Your good deed backfired. We have to spend every other weekend as a family, no friends, or electronics. It’s going to be hell.’

Adam’s Apple

'It won’t be that bad. It’s only every other weekend.’

My cheeks puff out in anger

'Yeah well when I’m getting murdered by them I won’t have my phone to call you and tell you how bad it is.’

He doesn’t reply, so I shove my phone into my pocket. I look up to see Michael staring at me, and jump, because I momentarily forgot that he was there.

“Oh! Yeah, about you…” I trail off, blushing lightly.

He smiles, then his face turns concerned, “What are we going to do?”

“That’s a great question,” I laugh, but it’s the wrong time to use my terrible sense of humor, “To be completely honest, I have no fucking clue. But what I do know is that no one in this house but me can know that you’re here. So you have to be completely silent when they’re here, got it?”

Michael nods, “Got it.”

authors note:

I chose Dylan O’ Brien (heart eyes to the max) to play Adam, and there’s a picture of him at the top! He’s a smart college student, and he has a hobby that you guys don’t know about yet ;)

Vote and comment if you enjoyed this chapter!

Until next time!

-Hannahxx

AU:ghost!michael