After packing up his backpack, Michael didn’t change into his pajamas to go to bed.
Instead, he continued to tidy up his belongings, including his clothes and daily necessities, arranging everything neatly.
Once everything was in order, Michael sat still, his gaze sweeping across his room.
His desk, chair, wardrobe, and bed—each corner he looked at sparked a flicker of memories in his eyes.
Eventually, Michael slowly lay down on his pillow and bedding, deeply inhaling the lingering scent, perhaps trying to remember Betty’s fragrance.
As time ticked by, it was past midnight.
Michael rose from his bed, tears having silently streamed down his face once more.
He wiped his eyes dry, took a deep breath, and slowly opened his bedroom door.
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He walked softly and quietly, making almost no sound as he opened the door.
He glanced towards Betty’s room, which was enveloped in silence.
Assuming Betty was probably asleep, Michael turned on his bedroom light and took out a piece of paper and a pen, slowly beginning to write something.
It was a scene all too familiar, reminiscent of countless movies and TV shows.
Was Michael planning to run away from home?
Or was he drafting a suicide note?
Before long, Michael finished writing.
He placed the paper on his desk, turned off the light, and quietly left his room.
He walked slowly to Betty’s door, reaching out to press down on the doorknob.
However, Betty had been locking her door these past few days, so Michael withdrew his hand, perhaps fearing he might wake her or even more afraid of confirming the door was locked, which would only deepen his sorrow.
Michael turned and walked quietly towards the house’s main door.
He put on his shoes silently, then turned to look back at Betty’s door with a sense of reluctance in his eyes.
After wiping a tear from his eye, he slowly pressed down on the main door handle, stepped out of the house, and gently closed the door behind him.
The house plunged back into silence, leaving Betty alone inside.
On the other side, Betty wasn’t completely asleep.
She had also gone to bed late and was in a state of half-sleep when Michael left his room.
The sound of the heavy security door, despite Michael’s careful handling, was loud enough to be heard, especially in the quiet of the night.
Betty heard the door close and suddenly opened her eyes.
Thinking someone might be entering or leaving, she briefly woke up but then, still drowsy, closed her eyes again, perhaps thinking she was dreaming, mishearing, or assuming it was a noise from the hallway or outside.
Betty drifted back to sleep, while Michael’s whereabouts remained unknown.
He had left without his phone or any personal belongings, taking only his body, the clothes on his back, and his love and longing for Betty...
Fast-forwarding to the morning, Betty woke up, and Michael had not returned.
It was unclear whether he had run away or taken his own life, but since I had been home yesterday and seen everything was alright, I wasn’t worried or scared about the scene in the video.
My feelings for Michael weren’t strong, mostly bound by a promise to Laura, so naturally, I hoped nothing bad had happened to him—how else could I face Laura if something had?
After waking up, Betty went through her usual morning routine of washing up and making breakfast.
As she passed by Michael’s room, she couldn’t help but glance inside, worry flickering in her eyes.
She had been harsh with her words last night, and Michael had seemed quite upset.
But soon, Betty shrugged it off.
He was a grown man; surely, he could handle a little rough patch.
What she didn’t realize was that if it were anyone else, it might not have mattered much to Michael.
But when it came to Betty, every frown and smile of hers deeply affected him.
To Michael, Betty wasn’t just his first love; she was his everything.
The only person who could truly hurt him was Betty, though she might not have fully grasped that.
After preparing breakfast and noticing Michael still hadn’t come out to wash up, Betty frowned.
Was the kid oversleeping again?
She knocked on his door first instead of barging in, but there was no response.
With a click, Betty opened the door only to find the room empty.
Stunned, she quickly checked the bathroom, which was also empty.
"Michael, where are you? This isn’t funny..." she called out, her voice trembling as she searched the spacious house.
She looked everywhere—inside cabinets, in every nook and cranny, even places too small to hide a person.
"Michael, stop this game now, or I swear I won’t let you off easy..." Betty’s voice shook with a sob as she checked the hallway outside, finding no sign of Michael.
Being a woman, she perhaps didn’t handle sudden situations as calmly as a man might.
Returning to Michael’s room, Betty frantically searched, even tossing the bedding around.
She seemed almost crazed, tears glistening in her eyes as she forced herself not to break down completely.
Finally, she noticed a piece of paper on the desk.
It was clearly placed, but in her panic, she had overlooked it initially.
With trembling hands, Betty read the brief note.
Though the camera couldn’t make out the exact words, it was clear there weren’t many.
Phrases like "I’m gone," "Take care," were all it said.
After reading, Betty’s hands froze, and the paper slipped through her fingers, fluttering to the floor.
With a thud, Betty collapsed onto the bed beside the desk, tears streaming down her face.
After a moment, she grabbed her phone to call Michael, but the ringtone came from his nightstand.
Opening the drawer, she found his ringing phone.
Michael hadn’t taken it with him.
Losing this last clue to find Michael, Betty now knew he had run away from home, carrying only the little pocket money she had given him.
Seeing Michael’s phone, Betty quickly dialed a three-digit number—clearly for emergency services.
"What? You’re saying you can’t file a missing person report until 24 hours have passed? That you can’t dispatch police?"
"What kind of logic is that? My son is missing..."
"Forget it, I’ll look myself..." Betty shouted into the phone before hanging up and throwing the phone onto the bed.