#michael fanfic

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?

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