guys, some reviews would make me happy.
Too early. My poor sore retinas haven't yet adjusted to the agony of daylight when I find him asleep at the kitchen table, gently snoozing, shoes kicked off. I pick one up, and it's worn down from dancing, just like in the fairytale.
He sighs and mutters something incomprehensible in reply, a stupid wasted smile spreading across his stupid wasted face. His clothes stink of whiskey and vomit, hair plastered to his flushed cheeks with sweat. I retch slightly, and proceed to start banging about the kitchen loudly with various utensils in an attempt to wake him up. It works, because after a while he sits up, groaning.
'Seven,' I open the fridge and note that it's completely devoid of food. Bugger.
'Did you have fun last night?' I enquire noncomittally, shutting the fridge and turning to him with an ice glare which he artfully avoids- something he's become extremely skilled at doing over the years.
'Yeah, it got pretty wild, y'know...'
'Mm. Is that sick?'
Gerard sniffs at his T-shirt, pulls a face 'It'll be ok for today.' He reaches for a bottle of almost-flat Fanta, upending its lurid orange contents into his mouth
'Gerard! That's disgusting!'
'Why?' He waves the bottle at me 'Did you want some?'
'No! Yuck! I can't believe you'd go to school wearing that! It's a health hazard!'
He shrugs slightly 'Like anyone'd care,'
'Yes, they would! Half the kids already think you're a psycho cause of what you said to that guy...stop laughing!'
'He was askin' for it,'
Ever since my brother started attending my school, I've had never-ending shit from other kids- who the fuck is he, what's he wearing, why's he here? It's an overshadowing I've been used to all my life, watching his utter self-destruction reign over any sense he might have ever had.
Chemistry. I am not paying attention, zoning in and out as I please, like a sorcerer might, breathing in the fumes of other students fucked-up experiments. This is one of the many lessons I shouldn't enjoy, one of the many things that segregates me from my fellow students.
I adore this; every miniscule, gleaming moment, even when I am doing nothing but letting the countless many-legged formulas on the board untangle themselves and smile at me in my head until I have a perfect comprehension, knowledge with which I could slay the greatest dragons. Today, I idly pass my hand through a flickering yellow flame- once, twice, three times- feeding off the thrill of knowing how easily I could stop, searing the flesh on the back of my hand until the room is filled with the stench of burning meat.
After everyone has left the room, I linger to pocket tubs of the black powder labelled 'Irritant' that's lying, inviting upon every desk. Potential to harm. I know for a fact that if I filtered a solution of this it'd produce a liquid so pure and clear that if I drank it I wouldn't wake from my sleep.
The lunch room is filled with a cacophony of wild animal noises battering at my ears. I seize a tray, hurriedly select a few items of foodstuffs and turn to watch the disarray around me. Almost every table is filled
Gerard looks up at me, cheeks flushed, and half smiles before dropping his gaze. I bite my lip. I don't belong with the Gods, I belong with the creeps who trash their friends and steal illicit powders from the science labs.
The creeps who'd trash me, regardless of whether or not I'm a good friend.
I can see Stevie gesticulating at me furiously, his eyes angry. Coolly, I survey his sticking- up bleached hair, his too-skinny wrists, the ugly pucker of his mouth. I dump my tray beside Gerard's and sit down.
He fixes me with a psychotic stare.
'Did I say you could sit here?'
'Nope,' I reach for one of his chips. He's not eating, paying more attention to a tiny black notebook in his hand, into which he's scribbling something. I lean over to see what it is, but he flips it shut.
'You are incredibly irritating.'
'I know.' I wriggle, manipulating my angle until I am in an optimum chip-consuming position.
'Ok. Fine. I give in, Frankie. I can't stomach food right now, anyway.'
'Ahh. Late night?'
He grimaces, and for the first time I notice the livid bruise-like shadows under his eyes.
'Mmm. It was fun while it lasted, I can tell you that....even if I can remember...well, nothing...'
'But the consequences are painful. As always.'
'Complete aversion to food for the next few days...'
'Exactly. And I'm hungry as well,'
'Regurgitating the contents of your stomach,'
'Yuk. Pounding headache.'
'Like a cement mixer. Hey, I never had you down as a lightweight,'
'I never had you down as a cheeky bastard.'
'I never had you down as a psycho,'
His response leaves me stunned, plasters what feels like a permanent smile on my face
'I never had you down as someone I could like.'