Frerard! Gerard is sent to prison for murdering his girlfriend o:
“Will the defendant please rise.”
With difficulty, I clamber to my feet. All eyes are on me. Turning a delicate shade of crimson, I turn to face the judge.
“You are Gerard Arthur Way of Belleville, New Jersey, is that correct?”
“Yes, your honour.”
“You have been convicted of the murder of Rachel Jessica Black by shot gun on the night of October 31st. How do you plead?”
I hesitate, shaking visibly from head to foot.
“I plead guilty.”
Then the world softly folds in upon itself as I topple to the floor, unconscious.
In my mind I am lying on my own bed, wearing only a pair of white boxer shorts. My left arm is flung out to my side and a small black kitten is chewing on my index finger playfully. A shaft of light dances through the open curtains and falls onto the sleeping figure curled up like a second, far larger, far more beautiful kitten on my chest. Her long blonde hair tickles my nose as I breathe in her sweet smell: Coffee and perfume. She herself is wearing nothing but a pair of turquoise-blue panties that contrast perfectly against her snow-white skin. I smile to myself and kiss her on top of her head, absentmindedly stroking her hair and wondering how it is that I came to be back here, when seconds before I’d been under interrogation by a high court in New York. It was at that moment that I remembered that this couldn’t be real, because Rachel couldn’t be real. And I opened my eyes again to find myself collapsed in an uncomfortable position on a hard mahogany floor.
It had been this way ever since the night Rachel had died. Every waking hour I found myself under interrogation by police, juries, judges, even family members as to what had happened that night, and what part I had played in all of that, and the second I was finally able to drift to sleep, I found myself back in Rachel’s arms.
How I wish I could never wake up.
The jury edges back along between the dark wooden benches and take their seats, only to be instructed to rise again, moments later.
The judge also rises and eyes the jury up and down. Looking around it seems like everyone in the room is doing the same. My eyes seek out the stand of wooden benches in the balcony above me where my family are sitting. They too are staring at the jury, each of their expressions different, each just as terrifying to me.
My father is glaring down at the twelve men and women who will determine my destiny with a look of clear, undisguised loathing.
My mother has tear streaks running down her slightly green tinged cheeks. My father told me over the phone that she has literally been sick with worry. I feel a great pang of affection towards her as I watch her draw shuddering breaths, and despise myself for putting her through all this pain and torment.
My younger brother, Mikey’s expression is by far the hardest to read, but I think I know what it is. Disappointment. Mikey is only fifteen years old, and I’m pretty sure he always looked up to me as some sort of role model. Way to go me for trashing his ideals like that. I really do despise myself.
Finally the judge speaks and my wait is almost through.
“Does the jury find the defendant innocent or guilty?”
I hold my breath.
“Guilty, your honour.”
My lawyer lunges forward and forces me into a seat before I faint again. I hold my head in my hands to hide my tears as the judge deals out my sentence.
I think everyone here already knows what it’s going to be.
“I hereby sentence the defendant, Gerard Arthur Way to death by the lethal injection, and may the lord have mercy on his soul. Court dismissed.”