мιcнael'ѕ p.o.v.

"Luca, stop!" I shriek as he covers my mouth. My cry is muffled. I sob as he hurts me. His smirk is burned into my memories. What he did to me, what he took from me ... is always going to be there in my mind.

I'm curled up into a ball, hiding in my closet like a coward. I can't face my parents if I can't even face the truth about what happened the night of my birthday. I bury my face into a hideous, old Christmas sweater that my maternal grandmother got me (it doesn't fit me anymore) and scream into the itchy fabric. My body is shaking violently as tears slide down my cheeks like raindrops down a window pane. My anxiety rises to a high level as I hear my bedroom door open.

God, no! I can't help but think, fire alarms going off in my head. Footsteps head around the room as I try to hold my breath. I breathe heavily as the person stops in front of the closet door. The door opens, and ... it's Kai. How did he get into the house without a key?

"Mickey? Why are you hiding?" he asks me softly as Kai lifts me off of the floor. My body is quivering too much as dark spots litter my vision. I lean against the wall as Kai opens the window, a chilly breeze entering the room. Sobs erupt from me, and my body slumps against the wall. Kai holds me gently, unsure of what to do.

"Michael, you need to talk to someone," he whispers. I shake my head quickly like I usually do. I have to keep this secret. To protect Kai, Harriet, my parents. To protect me.

Questions.

1.) Where was Michael hiding during his panic attack?

2.) Tell me whose point-of-view you want to see next.

Word Count (excluding author's note and footer): 293