Michael sits there, thinking and thinking and just thinking. Something was off, something he couldn't put his finger on, but it was at the tip of his tongue. It was slowly surfing at the back of his mind, just waiting to surface. 

There is no way Michael could have dreamt of everything happening. It just wasn't possible, at least for him. Michael wasn't gifted with special abilities, unless you count being stalked and haunted by whatever the fuck Luke was. Was he a demon? A psychopath? He just didn't know. 

Michael looks at his floor, he studies every object thrown onto his floor, and then he's studying his dresser and were the drawers open before? He doesn't remember them being open. And then he's looking at everything on his floor and he's slowly processing it. Michael remembers the night everything flew off his dresser, and they were still on top. And then Michael realizes that the things on his floor were just thrown across, carelessly and like whoever did it was in a hurry. Michael's Green Day shirt wasn't even on the floor when everything happened, but there it lay, perfectly in a pile with other clothes that shouldn't have been there.

So, Michael rushes off his bed, he's throwing open his bedroom door and he's running to the bathroom. He's going through the drawers and he knows Ashton owns a hand held mirror. 

And then he's turning around, holding the hand held up so he can see the back of his head. He's moving around his hair, looking closely at his scalp and then he sees it. He sees a scar that looks fresh, and if Michael can remember correctly, he can, he hasn't bumped his head on anything lately. Not until Luke smashed it into the locker. 

Michael knew. He fucking knew he wasn't dreaming. 

But, the only thing he can ask is, how? How did Luke do it? 

--

Michael comes out, freshly showered and dressed and he has a grip on a piece of paper. He has his phone ready to Google map the address, he's typing it in and passing the living room where Ashton is watching TV.

"Where you going?" Ashton stops him.

"I have to run somewhere. I should be back soon." Michael doesn't miss a beat, but he misses the look Ashton gives him because he's already out the door and slams it behind him. 

He chooses to walk, it's not that far, and walking is good for him. It gives him time to enjoy the fresh air and think everything through. What was he even going to say? She had to believe him, she's the one who told him to go anyway. Michael didn't believe her at first, but it only took a week for Luke to strike, and if he had just listened, none of this would have happened. Luke was trying to kill him. Or he just had a mess up way with games. 

It takes Michael twenty minutes to get to an old run down building. He isn't even sure if anyone is inside, or if it's even open. Did she give him the wrong address? 

But, it's like something pushes him forward because he finds himself getting closer to the door, and then gripping the handle and pulling it open. Michael walks in, instantly hit with cold air. He walks further in, turning his head to look around. He doesn't see anyone. 

He gives up, turns around and is about to push the door open when a voice stops him.

"I've been expecting you, Michael."

It's a female. Michael turns around, shocked to see a lady in front of him. She looks forty, and Michael doesn't recognize her, so he doesn't know how she knew his name.

"How do you know my name?"

She ignores him, she just simply beckons him closer, and then turns around and walks down the hall. Michael follows behind, of course. He came here for answers, and he was going to get his answers. 

--

Short update, sorrryyy but the next chapter won't take as long as this one and it might be longer. 

i am scared of clowns and idk if any of you are but that gif scared me