Nightmare || Michael Clifford

8. Almost Safe

"Claire, I've heard that when you talk to someone who isn't awake, that they'll hear you," she began awkwardly.  "But that's only sometimes. So, I just got off the phone with Mikey, again. He's flipped out. After I told him about your accident, he went crazy, punching walls and yelling how stupid he is over and over." She took a deep breath. "He really loves you, and he regrets ignoring you. He just wasn't sure what to feel." She was cut off at the sound of her phone ringing. "It's Mikey."

She let out a deep sigh as she answered it. "Hello? Michael?"

I could hear him breathing, she had the phone on speaker. "I'm on my way now." He sounded so different over the phone. His voice sounded raspier on the phone and it made me feel some type of way.

"Have you calmed down?" She asked sternly.

"What does it fucking matter?" He growled. "I'm half way there."

She groaned, "Damn, calm down before you get here. Don't cause trouble either."

He sighed in annoyance, "Ok, mom! I'm pulling in now. Bye, Ivy."

She sighed deeply once more and started talking again. "Ok, Claire. I guess I'll come back when you wake up."

I heard her footsteps retreat to the door, then the sound of the door closing. Almost a minute later, the door opens and someone walks in. The footsteps stop right next to me, then I hear the person breathing heavily. Then an angry sounding voice, "You deserved it, you bitch." I assume it's that disgusting creep. Then how did he get into my hospital room. This is scary.

The something is placed under my limp hand. It feels like a little piece of paper. Then, the person leaves.

In my mind, I'm practically screaming. I lay in mind for several minutes, then I hear the door opening once more, then the sound of rushed footsteps. He's here. I feel safe again. I want call out his name, hug him, kiss him, see him.

I feel his lips against my cheek rather than my injured forehead. Then I feel his hand on mine. He goes to hold it, but he feels and hears the piece of paper left by the person who tried to kill me. He instantly snatches the paper from beneath my hand. He growls angrily.

Then he proceeds to read it out loud. "Hello pretty, don't think you're at all safe yet. I'll be coming back to finish the job." Like hell you will, you sick fuck. Not if I have anything to do with it," he mumbles to himself. He's definitely planning something.

Not long after, I hear the sound of paper ripping and being crumbled up, then the screech of a chair being moved closer to my hospital bed. Then, his hand landed on mine again, clutching it as if I might disappear. I feel his lips kissing my knuckles. He lays his head next to my thigh on the bed and I listen as he breathes in and out. The sound of his heavy breathing is very calming to me. He places the hand he's holding on his cheek and I feel his breath hitting my hand.

There's never been a time when I wanted open my eyes as much as I do right now.

---

I know a lot of time has passed, because when I "woke up", Michael wasn't there; I didn't feel him. I decided to try and open my eyes. Open sesame. Awaken! Nope. Eyes get unglued. If only I could move my hands. Wait! I'm awake. Maybe I can move. Ok, time to wiggle the fingers. With that, I fisted the bed sheets of the hospital bed. Yay. I began moving my hands, feeling for my face, slowly. Once I found my eyes, I used two fingers to peel each of my eyes open.