CHAPTER 64

The next couple of weeks, Miguel went into complete survival mode. He went through the typical stages of grief. The first was pain and shock - for the first week after the accident, he couldn't accept what had happened. He had refused to believe that Emily was dead. She must be somewhere in the city, he thought. So he spent the week after the accident scouring every inch of the site of their car wreckage, a week he really should've spent in the hospital. He had broken one arm, three ribs, suffered multiple first, second and third degree burns all over his body. His face was almost fully covered in a combination of burns and stitches from pieces of glass that had caused large gashes all over him after the windshield broke. Also, the impact of the actual hit that he was forced to take the full brunt of had given him whiplash, as well as several other minor injuries that made even just sitting up a tall task. However, Miguel had forced himself to swallow up the pain and spend the entire week in the forest, desperately trying to find any sign of his girlfriend. But to no avail. Miguel found nothing so he was forced to face the hard truth that she was gone. Then came the next stage… guilt.

This was by far the hardest stage for Miguel. Stabbing guilt flooded his body with a pain more agonising than any of his physical injuries. He couldn't leave his room, couldn't face anyone. Because all of this… it was his fault. It had been him who had been driving the car. He had been looking the wrong way, been distracted, and it had resulted in the person he loved most in the world suffering the consequences of his actions. Miguel felt such an overwhelming shame that he refused to even come out of his room for food, eating only the food he had in his room to survive the next few days. He had felt so guilty he hadn't even gone to Emily's funeral service. He felt so afraid to face reality that he locked himself in his room and lost the chance to say his final goodbyes to the girl he loved.

That led him into his third stage of grief: depression. Eventually, as his guilt slowly started to wear off, it was replaced by an aching dull so powerful that it felt like every step he took he was being doused in frigid, icy water. It was unrelenting, unforgiving. Every morning, Miguel would wake up, he would lie in his comfortable bed. He would see the sun's rays shine through the blinds. He would hear birds cheerfully tweeting and chirping outside his window. And for a moment, everything would be fine. But then he would remember, and it was like a crushing weight would slam down on his chest and clamp around his heart.

After about 2 and a half weeks after Emily's death, Miguel started to leave the house again. He looked absolutely sickly, both physically and mentally, and that only got even worse when Miguel discovered his personal coping method for the pain: alcohol…

Miguel had been entrapped by the devil's liquid, and it had quickly began to take over him more and more. It was the one thing that would numb the constant pain he was feeling, and with each passing day of the draining, heart-wrenching agony he felt within him, he craved that release more and more. So he began to drink so much he was practically drowning in it, using his fake ID to buy alcohol or get him into dive bars. He was in a hell loop with seemingly no way of getting out…

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"Alright class, listen up." Johnny barked at Miyagi-Do at the end of training, glancing at the group, his eyes lingering on the one missing spot in the room. He was extremely worried about Miguel, knowing exactly what lay at the end of the road if he carried on on his current path, but he honestly didn't know what he could do right now. He had tried to talk to Miguel, but Miguel had immediately brushed him off and left. Johnny knew that he needed to wait for a bit of time to pass and the dust settle a bit more with everything, before talking to Miguel. So the most he could do was just continue with Miyagi-Do and regular life while he tried to get through to Miguel. "Well done, today. You did well. You all…"

"Sorry! Sorry I'm late!"

A voice came from the entrance of the dojo and all of the students turned around to see who was there. When they saw who it was, they gasped. Standing, well leaning against the door of the dojo was, for the first time in nearly 3 weeks, Miguel!

Miguel looked horrible. No other way to say it. He was clearly wasted, not able to even stand up straight without the support of the door. His eyes were sunken and droopy. His unhealed burns and scars all over his face made him look like Frankenstein. He just looked absolutely awful. Johnny did a double take when he saw Miguel there. Understandably, neither George nor Miguel had come to Miyagi-Do training since Emily's death as they were both coping with their loss, so Johnny was extremely shocked to see Miguel there.

"Miguel? What are you doing here?" Johnny stammered. Miguel shrugged and stumbled into the dojo, almost falling over instantly in his drunkenness.

"What do you think I'm doing here? I'm here for training! Duh!" Miguel slurred.

"Jesus you're wasted." Johnny remarked. "Look, class, training's over! Miguel, let me take you home!"

The class nodded and swiftly left the room, not wanting any part of the chaos that they knew was about to come. That left just Johnny and Miguel in the dojo…

"What? No! Come on!" Miguel exclaimed drunkenly. "I wanna spar! Look, you and me! Right now! Let's spar!"

"Miguel, come on, let's get you home." Johnny murmured, abnormally softly. He tried to grab Miguel to steady him as he looked like he was about to fall over at any moment. However, as he did, Miguel did something that seriously surprised him. He slapped Johnny's hand away, before shoving Johnny backwards surprisingly hard. Johnny stumbled backwards and looked at Miguel in shock. Miguel glared back at him.

"Come on, I'm saying let's spar. Let's spar. Or are you too pussy?" Miguel growled. Johnny sighed.

"Miguel, come on. You're really drunk. Let's go." Johnny said, walking back over to him. However, as he tried to grab Miguel's arm, Miguel yanked it away, before sending a hook punch at Johnny's head…

Luckily, due to Miguel's intoxication, he was far from full strength, however he did connect with a wicked WHACK, and sent Johnny backwards. As Johnny looked at Miguel, he sighed in defeat.

"You know what? You want to spar? Let's spar." Johnny agreed. Miguel grinned and chuckled drunkenly.

"Yessssss! Let's do this!" Miguel slurred. "Ready for me to kick your ass, old man?"

"Come on. You wanted to spar. All I'm hearing so far is talk." Johnny snapped at him. Miguel smirked and nodded, before charging at Johnny. It wasn't much of a fight at all. Although Miguel at full strength could put up a great fight against Johnny nowadays, in this state, Miguel was no match for his sensei. Miguel started by throwing an off-balanced, weak hook punch, which Johnny blocked without batting an eye. He ducked the punch, and then threw 2 punches of his own, careful to avoid Miguel's injuries. 2 punches were all it took to send Miguel crashing back into the wall, before falling flat on his face, completely knocked out…