Death’s Tales: Chapter 13

Sitting on Micheal’s bed was comfortable and his room was warm enough that I didn’t need to have my jacket on. Mr. Lambert had assigned us an essay on the use of figurative language in writing. I was just finishing up with it and I sighed as I began writing the final sentence. Micheal was downstairs talking to his parents. We had come by after school to do homework, but we hadn’t been here for five minutes when his parents called him down to talk to him.

I was putting the paper away in my bag when he came in. He handed me a warm coffee mug. I breathed in the sweet scent of hot chocolate and took a sip. It was almost hot enough to burn my tongue but not quite.

Micheal sat on the bed next to me, his legs crossed under him. I turned to him. “So what did they want to talk to you about?”

Micheal shrugged. “I have a doctor’s appointment next week because my heart has been acting weird and my feet were a little swollen yesterday.”

I scooted slightly away, spilling a little of the hot drink on my shirt. I hissed as it hit my skin.

Micheal rolled his eyes. “It’s not your fault, Hades.”

I tilted my head and looked at him. “And you know that how?”

“Because this happens occasionally. It’s just because of the heart attack that I had when I was younger.”

“The swelling?” I asked, only slightly less relaxed.

Micheal nodded. “And my heartbeat often beats a little irregularly. It’s not really too much to worry about but we get it checked out whenever it happens.”

I sighed and took another drink of cocoa. “It still might be my fault. This time it could be serious.”

Micheal nodded. “Maybe it will be serious, and that’s why I get it checked out but you can’t blame this on yourself.”

I stuck out my tongue. “You underestimate my ability to blame myself.”

Micheal rolled his eyes up to his ceiling and shook his head. “Fine. Let’s just leave it at “I’m going to an appointment next week” and then move on to the next topic.”

I took another sip. It was really good and warm. “Fine. What’s the next topic?”

Micheal shrugged. “I don’t know. Have you read any good books lately?”

I glared. “I don’t like reading, Mr. Perfect McPerfection.”

He laughed. “Is that my new nickname? Mr. Perfect McPerfection?”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “It’s temporary. Only Miracle Boy is your permanent nickname.”

Micheal wiped a hand across his forehead, wiping away imaginary perspiration. “Well that’s a relief,” he said with exaggerated actions. “I thought you were going to call me that forever.”

“Oh my gosh!” I said, laughing. “You’re a horrible actor and not funny at all.”

Micheal sat straight up, serious as a painting in our history books. “Then why are you laughing?”

I sat up like him, the laughter hidden behind a badly constructed mask of seriousness. “I’m not laughing at all. I don’t know what made you ever think I was.”

We both smiled, unable to keep up the performance. Then Micheal fell back on the bed, his hands holding his head as he looked at the ceiling. Then he looked over at me. “Truth or dare?”

I knew of the game, although no one had ever asked me to play. Truth: you get asked a question that you have to answer. Dare: you had to do whatever the person told you to do. I bit my lip. “Don’t you still have homework to do?” I asked Micheal, hoping to distract him so I could remember if there were any other rules I was forgetting.

Micheal just smiled and repeated himself. “Truth or dare.”

I groaned. “Truth, I guess.” I was trying to remember which was better to pick.

Micheal smiled thoughtfully. “Do you… have a crush on anyone?”

I stared at Micheal. “What? Of course not. How dangerous would that be, idiot? That’s a feeling that I don’t really need.”

He shrugged. “Fine. Your turn.”

I scowled. “Okay. Truth or dare?”

Micheal thought about it for a minute. Then: “Dare.”

I bit my lip. What the heck could I dare him to do? “Um…” Dang it. I couldn’t think of anything. I told Micheal as much.

“Okay, well, truth then.”

Not that that was much easier. “Okay… why do you like taking my backpack?”

Micheal huffed a laugh. “Because it’s fun and because it makes you annoyed and, finally, because you always come back for the backpack.”

“Well, it does have very important things in it.”

“As long as it keeps working for me.”

“Micheal,” I scolded, but I was smiling. “That’s mean.”

“Says the girl who scowls at everyone.”

I crossed my arms. “At least I don’t steal from people like someone I know. But I won’t mention any names, Micheal.”

He rolled his eyes. “No, not going to name names at all.”

There was silence for a minute as I finished my cocoa. I set the cup on the dresser next to the bed and lied down to stare up at the ceiling. The warm room was making me drowsy and my eyes were kind of heavy. I laid my hands on my stomach and let out a breath.

“You know,” Micheal said, “You were really laughing today. Laughing happier than I’ve ever seen you.”

I closed my eyes. “You’re a bad influence, Miracle Boy.”

I heard him laugh but even that faded out as I fell asleep.

When I woke up, the lights were off and the sky was mostly dark. I could just barely see. I was on Micheal’s bed and my feet were extremely cold. Someone had taken off my shoes. Micheal was gone and I looked out the window, trying to figure out what time it was. There was a clock on the dresser and the red numbered glared at me. 4:43. But it had been almost five the last time I checked. Had I really slept through till morning?

Why hadn’t Micheal woken me up? Where was Micheal anyway?

I climbed out of the bed and walked over to the door, opening it carefully. I crept down the stairs, some of them creaking loudly. There was no one in the kitchen and the house seemed eerily quiet. I walked to the living room keeping my hands out in front of me to protect from unseen objects. There was a lamp at the entrance of the living room and I turned it on. There on the couch in front of the bay window, was Micheal, sleeping. His hands were tucked under his cheek and he was lying on his side.

I smiled, not sure if I should wake him or not. I decided against it. It was still early and he would be up in a few hours anyway. I could ask why he didn’t wake me up then. For now… I yawned. For now, I was going back to sleep.