Michael glances over his shoulder in the mirror nervously. He's currently brushing his teeth, his body frigid and he can't help the paranoia that occupies his mind. It's been exactly a week since his "reading" and he has been on edge since. Every time he's alone or staring at his reflection he checks behind himself, watches over his shoulder as if the spirit following him will pop up and scare him.

But it doesn't happen, because it's not true. At least what he tells himself. But, then why did he keep that little piece of paper with the address on it? He wonders. A little part of him believed, but major of the part didn't. Nothing has happened to him to prove it existed.

Michael finishes brushing his teeth, rinses his mouth out and left the bathroom in a hurry. He felt suffocated and he felt someone watching him but he blamed it on his paranoia. He carefully took each step one at a time, tripping on the third to last step and landing on his side.

"Shit." He curses, carefully standing up and brushing his side. He winces at the contact, no doubt a bruise would form there. He glances at the stairs, chills creeping down his spine as he stares at it too long. He doesn't understand how he lost his footing, but he was just glad nothing serious happened to him.

He makes his way to the front door, he's ready to open it when the TV turns on. It's on the music channel, full volume. He winces, pauses with his hand on the knob and he debates if he should leave or turn the TV off. He goes with the latter.

"It was already on... I must have missed it." He whispers to himself, letting out a humorless chuckle as he passes the couch and grabs the TV remote off the table. "Nothing to worry about." He smiles to himself. He presses the power button, but it doesn't turn off. "Oh, must be the batteries." He nervously sets the remote down, and unplugs the TV. It turns off.

He quickly makes his way outside, locking the door behind him and ignores the sound of the music channel playing again from inside his living room.

--

"Did you hear what happened to Markus?" Ashton asks as they settle down on their normal bench during lunch. People around them bustled around in a hurry, either trying to get to class or find a seat.

Michael slowly shakes his head, taking a bite from his pizza. He chews, and waits for Ashton to tell him.

"He killed himself."

Michael gasps, chocking on his pizza. He coughs, desperate to fill his lungs with oxygen. "What?" He crocks, and then clears his throat. Ashton nods, tears filling his eyes as he thinks of his best friend. "How? Did he leave a note saying why?" Michael asks desperately.

"He left a note..." Ashton mumbles, looking at the plate in front of him. "He said the Grim Reaper made him."

Michael gives him a funny look, but moves his arm over his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I'm sorry, mate...I know you were always the closest to him. It must be hard."

"He jumped off a building. They found his body in different parts. He just...impact...his body separated..." Ashton mumbles, placing his head on Michael's shoulders as he silently cries. Michael stares at the table, his food completely forgotten about as he thinks of his friend killing himself.

"It doesn't make sense." He whispers, Ashton nodding against him. "The Grim Reaper made him? What is that supposed to mean?"

"The cops think he went crazy. They found acid in his systems."

Michael snorts, shaking his head. He watches Ashton sit up, and lay his head on his arms. He's crying. Michael puts his hand on his back, pats it a few times before removing it. He was never good at comforting someone.

"C'mon, let's ditch. We'll head back to mine."

Ashton agrees, and they both carefully and quickly walk off campus. The walk to Michael's house isn't long, both keep looking behind them in case a cop is following.

Michael unlocks his door, hearing nothing as he opens it. He peers inside, his gaze settled on the TV as he pushes the door open. It's off, and he could have sworn he heard it before he left.

"I'm just hearing things." He mutters as he walks in, leaving the door open so Ashton can follow. Ashton collapses on the couch, shivering.

"Dude, its freezing in here! Turn on the heat."

"It is on." Michael says, confused as he walks upstairs to the hallway. "Or not." He says, scrunching his face as he switches the dial to 'heat.'

"That was weird." Michael says as he plops on the couch next to Ashton. The heat kicks on, a loud sound from the furnace echoes off the walls.

"What was?"

"The air was on. I swear I turned the heat on this morning."

Ashton shrugs, "I guess not. You better not go crazy on me as well. Because I swear if I lose you as well..." Ashton stops, sending a glance to Michael.

Michael chuckles nervously, "Don't worry, man. I'm not going crazy any time soon." He glances at the TV, sees it's still unplugged.

"How about we watch TV?" Michael asks, jumping up to plug the TV in when it turns on itself. It's on MTV, ridiculousness is on.

"My favorite show..." Ashton mumbles, not noticing Michael didn't touch anything to turn it on.

"Yeah." Michael says, sitting back down as he blinks slowly at the TV.