OO • Proloog • Michael Clifford

It didn't take long for him to find them. The reactions their 'fans' send him, reminding him of what happened. Of course, some were nice, sweet and sympathizing. But there were also the ones that weren't. The ones that told him what he already knew, about how he looked awful and how he was even uglier than before. It wasn't difficult to find them, because they stood out between the few nice tweets. The tweets some of the fans send him, full of lies and false reassurances.

No, he knew they didn't mean it. He knew the other ones were right. Mean, rude and offensive.. But right.. Some were written in caps lock, giant letters filling the small screen of his cellphone, and some were not.. But it didn't matter. They were notable either way.

He couldn't take it any longer and closed his twitter, without posting anything. A silent sob could be heard, if there would have been anyone to listen.

But there wasn't. He was alone, alone with his fears and pain. He was alone with his sorrow, fighting a battle againt his feelings.

Fighting a battle he was doomed to lose..