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Fortunately, Reader's Block Haven't Reached These
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[deleted user]
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May 09, 2017 04:45PM
Here are the stories I plan to further continue on and will likely do so.
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“If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything in life. My mother told me that, god bless her heart. I….I of course, had that in mind while writing my novel.” Michael folded his arms in discomfort and in turn, would attempt to hide the fact that he was biting his nails.
“Do you understand that this novel….is….is one of the most controversial, if not the most controversial of our time? Not because of the novel itself, but because of the author that wrote it?”
“Yes, but I don’t understand why.” Michael took on a sketchy expression.
“Well, you’re age, of course. You’re a bit too young to be writing such a book, at all even.” Michael sighed in disappointment. The man had also been judging him beforehand.
“That's the problem with this nation, the majority of this nation judges before they can even fully understand it. In this case, me and the novel. You automatically believe that a child can’t write at an adult level. It isn’t true.” Michael shifted in discomfort, he was becoming flustered by the second.
“Kid, calm down. I’m just placing myself in the perspective of others.” The host raised his hands in a surrendering gesture as if he was raising his own white flag.
“First of all, this kid….” Michael paused for dramatic effect so as to let “kid” hang in the air for a second. “….this kid has sold nearly 80 million books, an achievement that I find astounding. You know, I’ve acted kindly and thanked others, namely my parents.” The displeasure at the host began to disappear as Michael inhaled and exhaled repeatedly.
“Michael, I want you to know that I am a fan of your book and I largely praise it. The simple fact that you’re a kid, it's your first book, your first novel and you have not had any experience in the field of selling books or getting an agent! The fact that you were as successful as you were, it's not from pure luck, you are truly talented and I am excited for the next book.” Michael’s mouth was slightly ajar as his jaw extended to the ground. Michael, had never heard a TV show host give praise publicly to an audience and directly to Michael’s dumbfounded expression.
“I think we should give Michael a standing ovation, if you don’t mind.” The host stood behind his desk and began to clap and grin while the audience started to rise and cheer. He even heard somebody whistle.
Michael, who, just a second ago was seething in anger, was in tears as his smile widened and covered his face. He waved to the crowd.
“Over here, please!!”
“We love you!!”
“Your book was amazing!!”
“I am a huge fan!”
“OMG!!”
As Michael exited the building to approach the limousine, he cringed at the multitude of bright lights and the ever-increasing throng of people. He noted the novels reaching out towards him alongside pens, kids screaming for autographs. Michael turned to his father who was located near the entrance currently socializing with the host, he gestured warmly for Michael to continue on without him. Nearly 10 minutes passed before Michael felt that he had at least met half of the crowd and begun to walk towards the limousine.
The darkness of the night was quickly extinguished as the orange, red and yellow of the explosion illuminated the sky. People were thrown into the air, meanwhile the vehicle was blown to pieces as shards, the debris flew outwards in all directions. Glass struck innocent bystanders across the street as others farther down the street either screamed or stood in awe of the colors. The building in which the show had just taken place featured a hole in the wall, glass dropping or falling down onto the pavement. Bricks and wood fell and struck others while large pieces sadly crushed unsuspecting victims. Michael, himself, was surrounded by rubble, a piece in which had swiped Michael’s head leaving a deep gash. Unconscious from the explosion, he had no clue that his father was lying on the ground near the entrance, spread out. He was visibly twitching, his eyes devoid of life. Even before the explosion rang throughout the air, the loudness of the explosion had scared his heart to death, therefore, all air had left his body for the final time.
Once the EMS arrived, Michael was lifted onto a stretcher into a nearby ambulance, his father wrapped in a plastic bag to declare his death.
Minutes later, the paramedics exhaled in relief as Michael began coughing dust out, slowly regaining his consciousness. One of the men patted him on his backside as the last of dust exited his airway.
“Where’s my father….and what happened to those people?” A look was exchanged between the paramedics as they decided to inform him at the nearby hospital.
“What happened?!” Michael was straining to speak, there was several scratches covering his chest as various pieces of debris fell upon his unconscious body.
“Do you understand that this novel….is….is one of the most controversial, if not the most controversial of our time? Not because of the novel itself, but because of the author that wrote it?”
“Yes, but I don’t understand why.” Michael took on a sketchy expression.
“Well, you’re age, of course. You’re a bit too young to be writing such a book, at all even.” Michael sighed in disappointment. The man had also been judging him beforehand.
“That's the problem with this nation, the majority of this nation judges before they can even fully understand it. In this case, me and the novel. You automatically believe that a child can’t write at an adult level. It isn’t true.” Michael shifted in discomfort, he was becoming flustered by the second.
“Kid, calm down. I’m just placing myself in the perspective of others.” The host raised his hands in a surrendering gesture as if he was raising his own white flag.
“First of all, this kid….” Michael paused for dramatic effect so as to let “kid” hang in the air for a second. “….this kid has sold nearly 80 million books, an achievement that I find astounding. You know, I’ve acted kindly and thanked others, namely my parents.” The displeasure at the host began to disappear as Michael inhaled and exhaled repeatedly.
“Michael, I want you to know that I am a fan of your book and I largely praise it. The simple fact that you’re a kid, it's your first book, your first novel and you have not had any experience in the field of selling books or getting an agent! The fact that you were as successful as you were, it's not from pure luck, you are truly talented and I am excited for the next book.” Michael’s mouth was slightly ajar as his jaw extended to the ground. Michael, had never heard a TV show host give praise publicly to an audience and directly to Michael’s dumbfounded expression.
“I think we should give Michael a standing ovation, if you don’t mind.” The host stood behind his desk and began to clap and grin while the audience started to rise and cheer. He even heard somebody whistle.
Michael, who, just a second ago was seething in anger, was in tears as his smile widened and covered his face. He waved to the crowd.
“Over here, please!!”
“We love you!!”
“Your book was amazing!!”
“I am a huge fan!”
“OMG!!”
As Michael exited the building to approach the limousine, he cringed at the multitude of bright lights and the ever-increasing throng of people. He noted the novels reaching out towards him alongside pens, kids screaming for autographs. Michael turned to his father who was located near the entrance currently socializing with the host, he gestured warmly for Michael to continue on without him. Nearly 10 minutes passed before Michael felt that he had at least met half of the crowd and begun to walk towards the limousine.
The darkness of the night was quickly extinguished as the orange, red and yellow of the explosion illuminated the sky. People were thrown into the air, meanwhile the vehicle was blown to pieces as shards, the debris flew outwards in all directions. Glass struck innocent bystanders across the street as others farther down the street either screamed or stood in awe of the colors. The building in which the show had just taken place featured a hole in the wall, glass dropping or falling down onto the pavement. Bricks and wood fell and struck others while large pieces sadly crushed unsuspecting victims. Michael, himself, was surrounded by rubble, a piece in which had swiped Michael’s head leaving a deep gash. Unconscious from the explosion, he had no clue that his father was lying on the ground near the entrance, spread out. He was visibly twitching, his eyes devoid of life. Even before the explosion rang throughout the air, the loudness of the explosion had scared his heart to death, therefore, all air had left his body for the final time.
Once the EMS arrived, Michael was lifted onto a stretcher into a nearby ambulance, his father wrapped in a plastic bag to declare his death.
Minutes later, the paramedics exhaled in relief as Michael began coughing dust out, slowly regaining his consciousness. One of the men patted him on his backside as the last of dust exited his airway.
“Where’s my father….and what happened to those people?” A look was exchanged between the paramedics as they decided to inform him at the nearby hospital.
“What happened?!” Michael was straining to speak, there was several scratches covering his chest as various pieces of debris fell upon his unconscious body.
“What’s your name, honey?” A female paramedic kindly asked. Michael hesitated for a tiny moment, worried for his privacy but understanding their jobs, Michael responded.
“Michael. I am Michael Simmon’s.” The majority of the attendants gasped in shock, quickly recognizing Michael for the newly renowned celebrity that he was. One of the paramedics simply shook their heads and leaned back against the ambulance to sigh. They felt it was most likely going to be a very long night once the press catches wind of what hospital Michael was situated.
Michael simply responded with “Yeah.”
A moment of silence had passed before Michael asked again where his father was.
“Where’s my father? Please tell me!” The paramedics exchanged glances before Michael’s worries strengthened.
“Why do you guys keep doing that? It's freaking me out!! Where is my dad?” It was the first time Michael had ever stated dad in a very long time. After his mother had also died of Cancer, years before.
“I don’t know how to do….” The chief paramedic, he assumed, cut off the lady and suggested to inform him of the untimely news. Michael felt his panic increase dramatically in a matter of seconds.
“I regret to inform you that your father has….” Before the chief could continue, the doors of the ambulance opened as nurses were already reaching for his stretch. Michael grabbed the chiefs arm abruptly and begged for him to tell him what had happened to his father. But the man was unfortunately whisked away.
He began tearing, instantly as the paramedics looked on into the distance as they were most likely ashamed and saddened by their inability to inform him of his own father's death.
“Please, at least nod if what I say is the truth?” The lady nodded and Michael continued on.
“He died from the explosion and….” A second passed before all five paramedics nodded in unison.
Suddenly, without warning, Michael was trembling, shaking before he cried out and bended over in pain. He had now lost both his mother and father. The tears came easily and without trouble as his mind began to fill with countless thoughts. Anger, confusion, sadness….he felt numb.
The sobbing ended as quickly as it started.
Yet, his emotions did not show in the end, as he casually and gently laid his head back against the stretcher, eyes closed. Inside he was crawling into a shell in which he would never crawl back out from. His heart turned cold in an instant.
He would find the person who did this to him.
The stretcher would continue moving, the voices would become muffled and eventually silent as all noise didn’t register in his mind as he simply didn’t bother to care.
As the days passed, Michael remained in the hospital, fixated on the same spot of the window looking out onto the city of Los Angeles. His gash was sterilized, an ointment was applied and soon afterwards, bandaged.
Days and nights passed as countless doctors and nurses of all types attempted to wake Michael out of his stare or at least tempt him to talk. In the long run, they simply gave up and continued to their daily routines.
His mind remained blank, empty.
As Michael’s father was a large contributor to charities, donations and fundraisers, he was a kind man that took care of his family as best as he could. Michael’s father was a philanthropist and a widely renowned author. Michael had taken inspiration from his old man, observing as his father wrote in utter silence, and therefore followed in his footsteps. Many knew the man before he died and therefore caught word of Michael’s hospital to send their condolences.
Even though Michael never responded, many left balloons, flowers, cards, money even, chocolates, and pictures. Yet, one picture in particular caught Michael’s attention.
It had been four months since the incident.
Michael stared at the picture deliberately, puzzled by its meaning but knowing that it had triggered something deep inside. He couldn’t quite comprehend the feeling but felt something change. He reached for the frame and turned it around to see the words and numbers:
Call me. 689-444-567. Remember. Please.
His heart beat randomly began to increase and hyperventilating but Michael swiftly started to inhale and exhale. Michael then set his hand on his heart, it was a reassuring way to test that he was still functioning well.
Now calm, Michael started to survey himself as he had been semi-conscious for the past few months. He was quick to notice that he was clearly significantly skinnier and wasn’t even close to filling out the entire bed. Much less, half of it.
He touched and felt his face, feeling the start of a mustache forming above his upper lip. His arms had less body fat and was truly showing bones.
“Michael. I am Michael Simmon’s.” The majority of the attendants gasped in shock, quickly recognizing Michael for the newly renowned celebrity that he was. One of the paramedics simply shook their heads and leaned back against the ambulance to sigh. They felt it was most likely going to be a very long night once the press catches wind of what hospital Michael was situated.
Michael simply responded with “Yeah.”
A moment of silence had passed before Michael asked again where his father was.
“Where’s my father? Please tell me!” The paramedics exchanged glances before Michael’s worries strengthened.
“Why do you guys keep doing that? It's freaking me out!! Where is my dad?” It was the first time Michael had ever stated dad in a very long time. After his mother had also died of Cancer, years before.
“I don’t know how to do….” The chief paramedic, he assumed, cut off the lady and suggested to inform him of the untimely news. Michael felt his panic increase dramatically in a matter of seconds.
“I regret to inform you that your father has….” Before the chief could continue, the doors of the ambulance opened as nurses were already reaching for his stretch. Michael grabbed the chiefs arm abruptly and begged for him to tell him what had happened to his father. But the man was unfortunately whisked away.
He began tearing, instantly as the paramedics looked on into the distance as they were most likely ashamed and saddened by their inability to inform him of his own father's death.
“Please, at least nod if what I say is the truth?” The lady nodded and Michael continued on.
“He died from the explosion and….” A second passed before all five paramedics nodded in unison.
Suddenly, without warning, Michael was trembling, shaking before he cried out and bended over in pain. He had now lost both his mother and father. The tears came easily and without trouble as his mind began to fill with countless thoughts. Anger, confusion, sadness….he felt numb.
The sobbing ended as quickly as it started.
Yet, his emotions did not show in the end, as he casually and gently laid his head back against the stretcher, eyes closed. Inside he was crawling into a shell in which he would never crawl back out from. His heart turned cold in an instant.
He would find the person who did this to him.
The stretcher would continue moving, the voices would become muffled and eventually silent as all noise didn’t register in his mind as he simply didn’t bother to care.
As the days passed, Michael remained in the hospital, fixated on the same spot of the window looking out onto the city of Los Angeles. His gash was sterilized, an ointment was applied and soon afterwards, bandaged.
Days and nights passed as countless doctors and nurses of all types attempted to wake Michael out of his stare or at least tempt him to talk. In the long run, they simply gave up and continued to their daily routines.
His mind remained blank, empty.
As Michael’s father was a large contributor to charities, donations and fundraisers, he was a kind man that took care of his family as best as he could. Michael’s father was a philanthropist and a widely renowned author. Michael had taken inspiration from his old man, observing as his father wrote in utter silence, and therefore followed in his footsteps. Many knew the man before he died and therefore caught word of Michael’s hospital to send their condolences.
Even though Michael never responded, many left balloons, flowers, cards, money even, chocolates, and pictures. Yet, one picture in particular caught Michael’s attention.
It had been four months since the incident.
Michael stared at the picture deliberately, puzzled by its meaning but knowing that it had triggered something deep inside. He couldn’t quite comprehend the feeling but felt something change. He reached for the frame and turned it around to see the words and numbers:
Call me. 689-444-567. Remember. Please.
His heart beat randomly began to increase and hyperventilating but Michael swiftly started to inhale and exhale. Michael then set his hand on his heart, it was a reassuring way to test that he was still functioning well.
Now calm, Michael started to survey himself as he had been semi-conscious for the past few months. He was quick to notice that he was clearly significantly skinnier and wasn’t even close to filling out the entire bed. Much less, half of it.
He touched and felt his face, feeling the start of a mustache forming above his upper lip. His arms had less body fat and was truly showing bones.
Michaels hair had barely even grown, if at all. What was also frightening that besides the fact that he barely fit the bed at all, his clothes were very loose and several sizes too large.
A machine was beeping in the background and Michael quickly noticed it was a heart monitor. The continuous beep and rise of the lines filled him with calmness. Just then Michael noticed the absurd amount of gifts and items brought to him from others. A slight grin covered his face before he grimaced and turned back to stare at the picture and number.
He himself was in the photo smiling with another young lady, he didn’t what to think of that. They were dancing in the process, most likely a prom event? He snapped his fingers to try to remember her name but nothing came to mind. She was wearing a blue dress with an extended tail.
She was indeed beautiful, her sharp facial features complimenting her round face, dark blue eyes with a delicate-looking nose, too. Her auburn, curly hair. It ended halfway down her backside. Her arms were placed around Michael, a large, bright smile showing off her pearly white teeth.
Michael had been reaching over his hospital bed to place the frame back onto the nearby stand but stopped abruptly. The name came out of nowhere.
Her name was Destiny. Destiny Jackson.
The memories were coming at a rush now, they were hazy but Michael could make sense of most. The camp, the dance, the sleep-over, the bus ride.
A few seconds passed before Michael made any sort of movement and yelled at the top of his lungs for a nearby phone. A doctor ran past his hospital room, doubled back and peeked inside before realizing Michael was the source of the voice.
“I need a phone. Quickly….please.” The man, his face confused, hesitated before throwing his iPhone towards Michael, who catched it.
Michael quickly thanked him and entered in the numbers located on the picture. Before pressing the green ‘call’ button, Michael glanced at the doctor and gestured for some privacy.
Surprised yet again, he exited the room closing the door with a firm lock. Michael sighed in annoyance and raised the phone to his ear. He heard ringing. For 10 seconds or so, the ringing continued.
“Hello?” The voice was female, seemingly out of breath, rushed, as if she had been expecting the call then unexpectedly panicked.
“Who is this?” Michael’s heart beat began to rise and fall.
“Jackson. Who is this I am talking to?” The voice was much calmer and relaxed.
“….Simmons.” Michael hoped against hope that the person on the other side would recognize the name and yell out in joy.
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” His hopes were being crushed and dashed upon.
“Simmons. Michael Simmons.”
“….” He heard intense breathing on the other end, crying from a distance.
“Are you still there?” Michael was beginning to think that it was simply a fan girl who had gotten access into his hospital room and had therefore laid her phone number besides his bed while he, himself, was semi-conscious.
“I missed you Mike.” Even though Michael was alone in the room, he bowed his head down to hide the smile that was slowly taking over his face. It was her.
“Destiny?”
She burst into tears and Michael could tell, was grinning in response to the fact that Michael had remembered her name.
“I thought you would never wake up….how long have you been awake?”
“Minutes ago. First thing I saw was your number. Genius.”
“You’re still at the hospital right? I’m coming, right now.”
“Please hurry!”
“Okay. I’m glad your back.” Michael hung up and laid his head against the pillow, sighing as he went. But reality rushed in and his emotions became too much to hold. Tears were streaking down from his eyes onto his cheekbone, dropping onto the sheets arranged before him.
“No, no, no….” Michael had little patience and threw the sheet off of him and kicked it to the floor. Nearly exhausted before he had even done anything, Michael began to breathe in weirdly. He continued to move and grabbed at the tubes connected to his arms and back. Finished, Michael shifted his position so that his legs were hanging off besides the side of the hospital bed. Michael cringed in pain as his feet felt against the cold, slick surface. The intense coldness caused for Michael to wrap his arms around himself.
A machine was beeping in the background and Michael quickly noticed it was a heart monitor. The continuous beep and rise of the lines filled him with calmness. Just then Michael noticed the absurd amount of gifts and items brought to him from others. A slight grin covered his face before he grimaced and turned back to stare at the picture and number.
He himself was in the photo smiling with another young lady, he didn’t what to think of that. They were dancing in the process, most likely a prom event? He snapped his fingers to try to remember her name but nothing came to mind. She was wearing a blue dress with an extended tail.
She was indeed beautiful, her sharp facial features complimenting her round face, dark blue eyes with a delicate-looking nose, too. Her auburn, curly hair. It ended halfway down her backside. Her arms were placed around Michael, a large, bright smile showing off her pearly white teeth.
Michael had been reaching over his hospital bed to place the frame back onto the nearby stand but stopped abruptly. The name came out of nowhere.
Her name was Destiny. Destiny Jackson.
The memories were coming at a rush now, they were hazy but Michael could make sense of most. The camp, the dance, the sleep-over, the bus ride.
A few seconds passed before Michael made any sort of movement and yelled at the top of his lungs for a nearby phone. A doctor ran past his hospital room, doubled back and peeked inside before realizing Michael was the source of the voice.
“I need a phone. Quickly….please.” The man, his face confused, hesitated before throwing his iPhone towards Michael, who catched it.
Michael quickly thanked him and entered in the numbers located on the picture. Before pressing the green ‘call’ button, Michael glanced at the doctor and gestured for some privacy.
Surprised yet again, he exited the room closing the door with a firm lock. Michael sighed in annoyance and raised the phone to his ear. He heard ringing. For 10 seconds or so, the ringing continued.
“Hello?” The voice was female, seemingly out of breath, rushed, as if she had been expecting the call then unexpectedly panicked.
“Who is this?” Michael’s heart beat began to rise and fall.
“Jackson. Who is this I am talking to?” The voice was much calmer and relaxed.
“….Simmons.” Michael hoped against hope that the person on the other side would recognize the name and yell out in joy.
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” His hopes were being crushed and dashed upon.
“Simmons. Michael Simmons.”
“….” He heard intense breathing on the other end, crying from a distance.
“Are you still there?” Michael was beginning to think that it was simply a fan girl who had gotten access into his hospital room and had therefore laid her phone number besides his bed while he, himself, was semi-conscious.
“I missed you Mike.” Even though Michael was alone in the room, he bowed his head down to hide the smile that was slowly taking over his face. It was her.
“Destiny?”
She burst into tears and Michael could tell, was grinning in response to the fact that Michael had remembered her name.
“I thought you would never wake up….how long have you been awake?”
“Minutes ago. First thing I saw was your number. Genius.”
“You’re still at the hospital right? I’m coming, right now.”
“Please hurry!”
“Okay. I’m glad your back.” Michael hung up and laid his head against the pillow, sighing as he went. But reality rushed in and his emotions became too much to hold. Tears were streaking down from his eyes onto his cheekbone, dropping onto the sheets arranged before him.
“No, no, no….” Michael had little patience and threw the sheet off of him and kicked it to the floor. Nearly exhausted before he had even done anything, Michael began to breathe in weirdly. He continued to move and grabbed at the tubes connected to his arms and back. Finished, Michael shifted his position so that his legs were hanging off besides the side of the hospital bed. Michael cringed in pain as his feet felt against the cold, slick surface. The intense coldness caused for Michael to wrap his arms around himself.
He grimaced as he pushed himself off the bed, and before he knew it, had his hand against the ground. His legs had given out. But once again, Michael--
She opened the door and hurried into the room, before her eyes had even rested on Michael, she was laying on the ground besides him, hugging his shoulders, holding Michael against her chest. She held his head out to fully inspect his face and smiled.
“Thanks for being quick, Des.” Besides the surprised expression on Destiny, Michael saw that she was wearing dark blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He threw a smile back at her and motioned for her hand.
“....ha, yeah, no problem….And my mom took me….by the way, why are you on the floor?” He shook his head, motioning for her not to ask.
“I want to get out of here.” “Well, let's go. Oh, wait.” Destiny’s smile widened as she held up Michael’s discharge papers. Seconds later, she ran outside and re-entered with a wheel-chair. Michael nodded and let Destiny pick him up by the waist. Before she did so, she wiped the tears away from Michael’s cheek and sadly grinned. Since, he had lost so many pounds, nearly anybody could pick him up or even carry him by the legs. She set him in the wheelchair, glanced around his room, shivered in disgust and wheeled him out the doorway.
“So, Michael, what will you be doing now?” Michael swallowed down the piece of Ramen Noodles and glanced up at Ms. Jackson.
“Well, honestly, no clue….I could most likely watch Netflix or read some novels, buy clothes, shoes.” She nodded and sadly grinned.
“To be honest….I need to further catch up with your daughter….” Destiny looked down in embarrassment, her cheeks slowly turning pinker by the second. “….of course, I will be forced to arrange my dad’s funeral, but, I can’t even bare to think about it.” The three of them continued staring on in silence before Michael suddenly remembered his inheritance. “Whoa, I don’t know how but I completely forgot about my father's will. Millions of dollars are probably in the bank, right now!”
Both Destiny and Ms. Jackson sat up straighter in alarm. Their eyes widened in size as they quickly understood.
Ms. Jackson began to pace across her living room. No doubt thinking of the endless possibilities with the money. She turned around unexpectedly and was about to ask a question before she was interrupted.
“Ms. Jackson, please don’t ask, I’ve already planned to give you and Destiny a third of the money.” Destiny gasped in disbelief and Ms. Jackson stumbled. In a flash, she had pulled Michael out of his chair and nearly squeezed the life out of him. She was hugging him so tightly that Michael could barely think.
“Michael, we don’t know how to thank you.” Michael dusted off his shirt and glanced up to Ms. Jackson yet again.
“About my father's business? Can you manage that for me, Ms. Jackson?” She didn’t even hesitate before she had graciously nodded her head. Michael sighed in relief, worried that she would have denied his deal. He clapped in excitement and brought Destiny to her feet.
Before Michael could let out a word, Destiny kissed Michael on his nose and soon, had him in a tight embrace.
“Hey, can I use your phone, real quick?” Destiny nodded and grabbed her pink phone out of her jeans then handed it over to Michael.
She entered in her pass-code and switched over to the call screen.
“Here you go.” Michael thanked her and walked outside to their porch. He could hear the two squealing in delight.
Michael entered the numbers into the phone and glanced up for a quick second. The air was chilly, if he breathed into the open space, Michael could spot a mist similar to smoke forming. Michael grinned as he heard a voice say
“Hello.” In the picture featuring Destiny, Michael had noticed another boy in the background of the photo, Michael remembered he had a bright, smile that glowed and was wearing a Tux. He seemed to be laughing at Michael and Destiny but as a kind, friendly gesture.
“Is this who I think it is?”
“Michael!”
“How are you Sam?”
“Dude, it's been some time ever since you got famous. Oh, some months ago, I heard the news of your dad dying, my condolences.”
“Thanks, I truly loved my father….hey, I got to ask for a favor.”
“What?”
“I want you to come out to Los Angeles.”
“.....are you sure you already want me to come by, I thought you were still in the hospital?”
“Nope, I’m out and of course I want you here, it's not like I don’t have the money.” Michael immediately regret saying so, he felt that he came off too cocky. Luckily, Sam gave it no attention.
“You know what Michael, let me ask my mom though she’ll probably say yes.”
She opened the door and hurried into the room, before her eyes had even rested on Michael, she was laying on the ground besides him, hugging his shoulders, holding Michael against her chest. She held his head out to fully inspect his face and smiled.
“Thanks for being quick, Des.” Besides the surprised expression on Destiny, Michael saw that she was wearing dark blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He threw a smile back at her and motioned for her hand.
“....ha, yeah, no problem….And my mom took me….by the way, why are you on the floor?” He shook his head, motioning for her not to ask.
“I want to get out of here.” “Well, let's go. Oh, wait.” Destiny’s smile widened as she held up Michael’s discharge papers. Seconds later, she ran outside and re-entered with a wheel-chair. Michael nodded and let Destiny pick him up by the waist. Before she did so, she wiped the tears away from Michael’s cheek and sadly grinned. Since, he had lost so many pounds, nearly anybody could pick him up or even carry him by the legs. She set him in the wheelchair, glanced around his room, shivered in disgust and wheeled him out the doorway.
“So, Michael, what will you be doing now?” Michael swallowed down the piece of Ramen Noodles and glanced up at Ms. Jackson.
“Well, honestly, no clue….I could most likely watch Netflix or read some novels, buy clothes, shoes.” She nodded and sadly grinned.
“To be honest….I need to further catch up with your daughter….” Destiny looked down in embarrassment, her cheeks slowly turning pinker by the second. “….of course, I will be forced to arrange my dad’s funeral, but, I can’t even bare to think about it.” The three of them continued staring on in silence before Michael suddenly remembered his inheritance. “Whoa, I don’t know how but I completely forgot about my father's will. Millions of dollars are probably in the bank, right now!”
Both Destiny and Ms. Jackson sat up straighter in alarm. Their eyes widened in size as they quickly understood.
Ms. Jackson began to pace across her living room. No doubt thinking of the endless possibilities with the money. She turned around unexpectedly and was about to ask a question before she was interrupted.
“Ms. Jackson, please don’t ask, I’ve already planned to give you and Destiny a third of the money.” Destiny gasped in disbelief and Ms. Jackson stumbled. In a flash, she had pulled Michael out of his chair and nearly squeezed the life out of him. She was hugging him so tightly that Michael could barely think.
“Michael, we don’t know how to thank you.” Michael dusted off his shirt and glanced up to Ms. Jackson yet again.
“About my father's business? Can you manage that for me, Ms. Jackson?” She didn’t even hesitate before she had graciously nodded her head. Michael sighed in relief, worried that she would have denied his deal. He clapped in excitement and brought Destiny to her feet.
Before Michael could let out a word, Destiny kissed Michael on his nose and soon, had him in a tight embrace.
“Hey, can I use your phone, real quick?” Destiny nodded and grabbed her pink phone out of her jeans then handed it over to Michael.
She entered in her pass-code and switched over to the call screen.
“Here you go.” Michael thanked her and walked outside to their porch. He could hear the two squealing in delight.
Michael entered the numbers into the phone and glanced up for a quick second. The air was chilly, if he breathed into the open space, Michael could spot a mist similar to smoke forming. Michael grinned as he heard a voice say
“Hello.” In the picture featuring Destiny, Michael had noticed another boy in the background of the photo, Michael remembered he had a bright, smile that glowed and was wearing a Tux. He seemed to be laughing at Michael and Destiny but as a kind, friendly gesture.
“Is this who I think it is?”
“Michael!”
“How are you Sam?”
“Dude, it's been some time ever since you got famous. Oh, some months ago, I heard the news of your dad dying, my condolences.”
“Thanks, I truly loved my father….hey, I got to ask for a favor.”
“What?”
“I want you to come out to Los Angeles.”
“.....are you sure you already want me to come by, I thought you were still in the hospital?”
“Nope, I’m out and of course I want you here, it's not like I don’t have the money.” Michael immediately regret saying so, he felt that he came off too cocky. Luckily, Sam gave it no attention.
“You know what Michael, let me ask my mom though she’ll probably say yes.”
“I’ll be expecting you, it’ll be fun, I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to it.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye.” Michael hung up and snapped the cell phone shut. Just as he did so, more than ever, the feeling of being under watch increased and Michael hurried inside.
He ran into Destiny and she smiled and kissed his cheek. “You just made my day.”
She laughs and hugs him, resting her head onto his shoulder. “You know you just hugged me, like a minute ago.” Grinning, Michael presses his face into hers and they stand there, locked in a tight embrace.
“Sam!!!” Michael held his hand out to Sam in which Sam waved away and in turn, decided to straight-out squeeze the life out of Michael. “Goodness, you’re strong!”
“Well, I’ve worked out for some time. You on the other hand?” He smirked and turned away jokingly.
“Ha, seriously?” Michael punched his shoulder playfully and grinned. Sam was indeed larger and taller than Michael, his hair was slicked back, Sam’s teeth a bright white. “Just for that, you’re driving and I’ll get your luggage.”
Sam gave a look and shook his head. “Still making me drive, I see.”
“This is a nice car, by the way.” Sam was clearly observing the Audi R8 GT.
“Thanks, it was my father’s.” Michael admired the upholstery of his car seat eventually staring out his passenger's side window. As the buildings and palm trees swiftly passed by, Michael smiled and lowered the music of the radio.
“How are ya?”
“I’m great, life’s great.”
“Okay, okay.” He raised his hand to the air and Sam high-fived it. “Well, I on the other hand, four months later got out of the hospital, Destiny act-”
“You met Destiny?” Sam’s expression featured a proud smile. “Didn’t know you had it in you. Good going, brother.”
“Yeah, Destiny left her number on some picture in my hospital room, I actually remember you and her by looking at the photo. Took me a second, though, before I realized who it actually was.” Michael shook his head sadly at the thought.
“Ah, that makes sense….sorry, I wasn’t able to visit you.” Sam avoided Michael’s gaze as he said so, in shame possibly.
“Wait, you didn’t visit me, why not?” Sam appeared flustered and wasn’t at all looking, not even glancing, in Michael’s direction. “Sam, why not?”
“....I….I, well….I just couldn’t deal with seeing you. Knowing I wasn’t there with you, it hurts, especially with the fact that you’re dad died. That….that just sucks.” For Michael, it would have been equally as frightening to even think of Sam in an accident.
“It’s fine-it’s really fine. I know you care about me anyways.” A moment of silence before Michael talked again.
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“Inheritance.” Sam rubbed his chin in thought, surprised by the randomness of the word. “I have no idea if I even want it though.” With that, Sam smoothly turned the vehicle into a driveway, turned the engine off and twisted his body so as to fully face Michael.
“That was the dumbest thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth, Michael.” Sam stated this with a dumbfounded expression over his face.
“Oh….keep the inheritance, that's a definite yes, I’m guessing.” Sam nodded his head but remained in his awkward position.
“How much is it, Michael?” Michael gazed out the window.
“It's got to clock in around….eh….200 million. 100 million now that I gave half to Destiny’s mom.” Sam rested his head upon the headrest of his seat. He stared up towards the hood.
“You are too nice, bro. But….100 million dollars!” He shouted as if he just understood how large the amount of sum was.
“We can split it, 50 mil, 50 mil. We don’t even have the will!” Sam nodded and a smile broke out. “You better calm down.” He tried to hide the smile but couldn’t and continued to flash it in Michael’s face. “Okay, then. Let's go.”
“Wait, wait, wait. I have an idea.” Michael glared at Sam with an interested but cautious expression.
“I’ll hold you to it.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye.” Michael hung up and snapped the cell phone shut. Just as he did so, more than ever, the feeling of being under watch increased and Michael hurried inside.
He ran into Destiny and she smiled and kissed his cheek. “You just made my day.”
She laughs and hugs him, resting her head onto his shoulder. “You know you just hugged me, like a minute ago.” Grinning, Michael presses his face into hers and they stand there, locked in a tight embrace.
“Sam!!!” Michael held his hand out to Sam in which Sam waved away and in turn, decided to straight-out squeeze the life out of Michael. “Goodness, you’re strong!”
“Well, I’ve worked out for some time. You on the other hand?” He smirked and turned away jokingly.
“Ha, seriously?” Michael punched his shoulder playfully and grinned. Sam was indeed larger and taller than Michael, his hair was slicked back, Sam’s teeth a bright white. “Just for that, you’re driving and I’ll get your luggage.”
Sam gave a look and shook his head. “Still making me drive, I see.”
“This is a nice car, by the way.” Sam was clearly observing the Audi R8 GT.
“Thanks, it was my father’s.” Michael admired the upholstery of his car seat eventually staring out his passenger's side window. As the buildings and palm trees swiftly passed by, Michael smiled and lowered the music of the radio.
“How are ya?”
“I’m great, life’s great.”
“Okay, okay.” He raised his hand to the air and Sam high-fived it. “Well, I on the other hand, four months later got out of the hospital, Destiny act-”
“You met Destiny?” Sam’s expression featured a proud smile. “Didn’t know you had it in you. Good going, brother.”
“Yeah, Destiny left her number on some picture in my hospital room, I actually remember you and her by looking at the photo. Took me a second, though, before I realized who it actually was.” Michael shook his head sadly at the thought.
“Ah, that makes sense….sorry, I wasn’t able to visit you.” Sam avoided Michael’s gaze as he said so, in shame possibly.
“Wait, you didn’t visit me, why not?” Sam appeared flustered and wasn’t at all looking, not even glancing, in Michael’s direction. “Sam, why not?”
“....I….I, well….I just couldn’t deal with seeing you. Knowing I wasn’t there with you, it hurts, especially with the fact that you’re dad died. That….that just sucks.” For Michael, it would have been equally as frightening to even think of Sam in an accident.
“It’s fine-it’s really fine. I know you care about me anyways.” A moment of silence before Michael talked again.
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“Inheritance.” Sam rubbed his chin in thought, surprised by the randomness of the word. “I have no idea if I even want it though.” With that, Sam smoothly turned the vehicle into a driveway, turned the engine off and twisted his body so as to fully face Michael.
“That was the dumbest thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth, Michael.” Sam stated this with a dumbfounded expression over his face.
“Oh….keep the inheritance, that's a definite yes, I’m guessing.” Sam nodded his head but remained in his awkward position.
“How much is it, Michael?” Michael gazed out the window.
“It's got to clock in around….eh….200 million. 100 million now that I gave half to Destiny’s mom.” Sam rested his head upon the headrest of his seat. He stared up towards the hood.
“You are too nice, bro. But….100 million dollars!” He shouted as if he just understood how large the amount of sum was.
“We can split it, 50 mil, 50 mil. We don’t even have the will!” Sam nodded and a smile broke out. “You better calm down.” He tried to hide the smile but couldn’t and continued to flash it in Michael’s face. “Okay, then. Let's go.”
“Wait, wait, wait. I have an idea.” Michael glared at Sam with an interested but cautious expression.
“I can’t find it!” Sam threw his hands up in defeat and looked around the spacious living room. Both Michael and Sam were attempting to find the will of Michael’s father. So far, they came up empty.
“My father is smart. He wouldn’t have it in plain view….Its got to be hidden somewhere only I know yet can’t even remember.” Sam was confused and shrugged helplessly. For Michael, it had been several months since he last resided in the Simmon’s household. Even before he had appeared on the Late Night Show, Michael had spent several weeks in a Hyatt hotel. Not even before that had he stayed in the estate.
“I’m going to check over his room.” Michael didn’t linger for Sam’s response and sprinted up the stairwell. He had searched the entire first level whereas Sam examined the second floor. Barely giving any other rooms a thought, Michael rushed through his father's room. He stood there for a moment at the entrance, out of breath, searching for any misplaced items. The sheets were neatly placed, the TV resided over the lengthy desks while the curtains were aside from the window. His closet was consisting of suits and black shoes. There was an absence of empty hangers.
Michael glanced back into the bathroom and noticed no change from the last time he arrived there.
“Wow, dad, it's all the same?” He chuckled to himself before grabbing the counter in order to steady himself. The tears were arriving at a steady flow and dropping onto the granite countertop. Michael stared at his reflection in the mirror and gradually collapsed to the bare tiles. He held his head between his hands and silently cried to himself for what felt like an hour. His hand struck the ground and Michael stared up to the ceiling in despair. “Why, why?!” Michael stood up and pointed his finger at the lighting, screaming “Why? Why?” several times. Losing his balance, Michael stumbled into the mirror in which his head banged against the glass causing for shards of glass to fall the bathroom sink. Michael grabbed at his head and groaned in pain before he froze. The mirror had broken and therefore uncovered the cabinet within, instead of a medicine cabinet, behind the mirror, Michael saw a stack of papers standing vertically against the backside of the cabinet.
In spite of the pain, Michael laughed, bitterly, and collected the stack of papers.
“I found them.” Michael waved the papers in front of Sam.
“The will? You got it, where was it?” Sam was ecstatic and gestured for the papers, Michael placed them delicately in his hands and nodded.
“Yeah, in the bathroom.” He was hesitant to speak, refused to inform Sam of how he found the papers and left the thought at that.
“Let’s go.”
“You got it.”
Michael rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and stretched out both his arms and legs. He slumped onto the couch and suddenly shouted in frustration. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Only a million godforsaken dollars!!” Sam strode into the room with an agitated expression, hesitating a moment before sitting next to Michael.
“Only a million, bro?” Michael nodded and rested his arm upon Sam’s shoulder. “What does this mean?”
A moment of silence passed between the two before Michael responded.
“Well, I guess….I guess that means I got to write another book.” Michael shook his head and sighed, he wasn’t currently thinking at all of a sequel so soon after his hit, especially after the accident occurred.
Stop's here.
“My father is smart. He wouldn’t have it in plain view….Its got to be hidden somewhere only I know yet can’t even remember.” Sam was confused and shrugged helplessly. For Michael, it had been several months since he last resided in the Simmon’s household. Even before he had appeared on the Late Night Show, Michael had spent several weeks in a Hyatt hotel. Not even before that had he stayed in the estate.
“I’m going to check over his room.” Michael didn’t linger for Sam’s response and sprinted up the stairwell. He had searched the entire first level whereas Sam examined the second floor. Barely giving any other rooms a thought, Michael rushed through his father's room. He stood there for a moment at the entrance, out of breath, searching for any misplaced items. The sheets were neatly placed, the TV resided over the lengthy desks while the curtains were aside from the window. His closet was consisting of suits and black shoes. There was an absence of empty hangers.
Michael glanced back into the bathroom and noticed no change from the last time he arrived there.
“Wow, dad, it's all the same?” He chuckled to himself before grabbing the counter in order to steady himself. The tears were arriving at a steady flow and dropping onto the granite countertop. Michael stared at his reflection in the mirror and gradually collapsed to the bare tiles. He held his head between his hands and silently cried to himself for what felt like an hour. His hand struck the ground and Michael stared up to the ceiling in despair. “Why, why?!” Michael stood up and pointed his finger at the lighting, screaming “Why? Why?” several times. Losing his balance, Michael stumbled into the mirror in which his head banged against the glass causing for shards of glass to fall the bathroom sink. Michael grabbed at his head and groaned in pain before he froze. The mirror had broken and therefore uncovered the cabinet within, instead of a medicine cabinet, behind the mirror, Michael saw a stack of papers standing vertically against the backside of the cabinet.
In spite of the pain, Michael laughed, bitterly, and collected the stack of papers.
“I found them.” Michael waved the papers in front of Sam.
“The will? You got it, where was it?” Sam was ecstatic and gestured for the papers, Michael placed them delicately in his hands and nodded.
“Yeah, in the bathroom.” He was hesitant to speak, refused to inform Sam of how he found the papers and left the thought at that.
“Let’s go.”
“You got it.”
Michael rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and stretched out both his arms and legs. He slumped onto the couch and suddenly shouted in frustration. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Only a million godforsaken dollars!!” Sam strode into the room with an agitated expression, hesitating a moment before sitting next to Michael.
“Only a million, bro?” Michael nodded and rested his arm upon Sam’s shoulder. “What does this mean?”
A moment of silence passed between the two before Michael responded.
“Well, I guess….I guess that means I got to write another book.” Michael shook his head and sighed, he wasn’t currently thinking at all of a sequel so soon after his hit, especially after the accident occurred.
Stop's here.
If any suggestions are available, please comment. I will continue this story and will need advice. Thank you.
