Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Keep your soul like a secret in your throat.
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Mikey was tired of hearing her talk. He wasn't even sure which 'her' he was talking about. Because both his mother, and his newly appointed therapist wouldn't stop asking him how he was feeling. Even after he told them he was fine they'd tell him not to keep his feelings bottled up.
It had only been three weeks since Gerard had been murdered and there had been 2 more murders since then. There were no suspects but it was assumed to be the same killer because all of the victims had the same mutilated wrists and maimed necks as Gerard had been found with.
Mikey spent the first week in Gerard's room, concentrating so hard on his memories of them together that he started to hallucinate. He saw Gerard there sitting on the bed, like he was still alive. Mikey thought himself to be crazy and immediately ran out of the room, slamming Gerard's bedroom door behind him. He told his mother what he had seen and his mother called a psychiatrist and scheduled Mikey and appointment.
Mikey sat at the kitchen island, eating his dinner as his mother washed the dishes. He kept his head down. He hadn't been feeling sad lately; he hadn't been feeling anything.
"I don't like my therapist. Dr. Dana is a wack job. I'm not going back," Mikey mumbled into his dinner.
"Mikey, she's just trying to help. But if you really don't like her, I'll find you someone else," his mother turned to face him, drying a glass.
Mikey finished the last bite of his spagetti, "Thanks."
His mother just nodded and took his bowl from him.
Mikey walked up to his room. He hadn't been doing his homework lately and he knew his grades had begun to slip but he didn't really care. He grabbed his backpack from next to his bed and opened it. He pulled out his math book, figuring he might as well try to figure out what they had been learning the past couple weeks that he had been pratically comaotse. He opened the book but the words and numbers meant nothing to him, he stared harder. Sine, Cosine, Tangent? Who cares? He didn't care about anything; nothing excited him, let alone kept his interest. He wasn't able to focus. His mom even tried to cheer him up by buying him a few comic books and even that didn't work. Mikey slammed his math book shut and threw it onto the floor. He flung himself back onto his bed, lying on his back he put his arm across his eyes, falling into a restless sleep.
Thirty minutes later there was a knock at Mikey's bedroom door. He was startled awake. His eyes sprung open and he blinked a few times.
"What?" he asked groggily.
His bedroom door opened slowly and in peaked the blonde head of his best friend, Bob Bryar. Bob was the only person Mikey had really talked to since Gerard's death, and that was mostly because Bob didn't force Mikey to talk about his dead brother.
"Hey," Mikey greeted him, sitting up on his bed.
Bob opened the door wider and walked in. Bob was a tall, bulky guy. On first meeting you might mistake him for a jock, not the best friend of a nerd. Bob looked at his friend sitting on the bed. He hated to see Mikey looking like this, it seemed like he hadn't seen a real smile on his friend face in ages. Mikey spent a lot of time in his room, but it looked like he wasn't getting much sleep, he had noticable bags underneath his eyes. Bob was worried, with good reason. Bob took a seat next to Mikey on his bed. Mikey looked down to Bob's hands to see he was holding a video cassette.
"What's that?" Mikey asked, motioning to the video.
"Oh, it's Willow, I thought you might enjoy it," Bob said handing it to Mikey.
Mikey nodded, "Thanks."
Bob hesitated. Mikey looked over at him, slightly curious, he knew Bob must have come over for some reason besides to give him a less than average movie.
"What are you really doing over here?" Mikey asked.
"Well, it's just I know that you're going through a tough time..." Bob began.
Mikey rolled his eyes. He had guessed this time would come. The time when Bob, too, would gang up on him, telling him to cheer up, that everything would be okay. But Mikey knew it wouldn't be okay, because his only big brother, his father figure, his only other real friend aside from Bob had died! Didn't anyone understand that? Mikey sighed, waiting to hear what Bob had to say.
"...there's this youth group therapy session, every Friday, you might like it. My cousin went there for a while, after her Dad died. She really liked it and she's doing a lot better now," Bob continued.
"That's nice," Mikey said sarcastically, "but I don't need to talk to anyone about what happened. My brother died and talking about it isn't going to change anything." Mikey said, looking away from Bob and out of his bedroom window.
"It might be good to talk to someone, Mikes. It might make you feel better. Less morose?" Bob was trying, but Mikey wasn't biting. "If you're scared, I'll go with you."
Mikey turned his head sharply to look at Bob, "I'm not scared!" He told him, loudly, furrowing his eyebrows. "The last thing I am is scared, Bob! I don't want to sit in a room with a bunch of fucked up kids and hear them complain about things that they can't change, okay!? So drop it!"
Bob was taken aback, in the three years Mikey and Bob had been friends Mikey had never raised his voice at Bob. Thinking back, Bob couldn't remember Mikey raising his voice to anyone, ever. Bob looked at his friend's face, thinking that the obvious lack of sleep and stress must be causing him to have major emotional mood swings.
"Fucking scared," Mikey muttered under his breath.
"I'm just trying to help you out, man," Bob said, quietly.
"Yeah, well I don't need help from you, or anyone else. I'm not a charity case," Mikey said, becoming less angry and more upset.
"Nobody said you were, man," Bob said confused, a second ago Mikey had looked like he was going to punch Bob in the face and now he looked like he might cry.
"Just leave me alone, okay?" Mikey said, turning away from Bob. Mikey got up from the bed and walked to his window.
A tear fell onto Mikey's cheek and he couldn't believe he was crying with someone else in the room, even if Bob couldn't see his face. The last time he had cried in front of anyone was in 7th grade when he had gotten hit in the face with a dodgeball in PE and even then he wasn't really crying, his eye had just teared up from the impact of the ball.
"I didn't mean to upset you, Mikey. I'm sorry, I just thought it might help," Bob said quietly, getting up from Mikey's bed but not moving towards him. Mikey didn't repsond, he just continued to stare out of the window at the dark city skyline.
"Well, I'll go. I'll see you at school tomorrow," Bob continued.
Bob waited a moment, just incase Mikey wanted to say something but once Bob realized that his friend wasn't going to respond he walked out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.
Mikey listened to Bob's footsteps going down the stairs. He heard the hushed murmers of his mother and Bob talking, no doubt about him. And then he heard the front door open and close and out of the window he saw Bob look up at him as he got into his car. They made eye contact for a second, before Mikey quickly turned his back to the window. Still listening, he heard Bob start his car, pull out of the drive way and down the street. That's when his let his tears go.
With blurry vision he stumbled over to the door and turned off his light. Walking back over to his bed he slipped off his hoodie, not bothering to take off his jeans before collapsing onto his bed and crying himself into a fitful sleep.
Mikey was tired of hearing her talk. He wasn't even sure which 'her' he was talking about. Because both his mother, and his newly appointed therapist wouldn't stop asking him how he was feeling. Even after he told them he was fine they'd tell him not to keep his feelings bottled up.
It had only been three weeks since Gerard had been murdered and there had been 2 more murders since then. There were no suspects but it was assumed to be the same killer because all of the victims had the same mutilated wrists and maimed necks as Gerard had been found with.
Mikey spent the first week in Gerard's room, concentrating so hard on his memories of them together that he started to hallucinate. He saw Gerard there sitting on the bed, like he was still alive. Mikey thought himself to be crazy and immediately ran out of the room, slamming Gerard's bedroom door behind him. He told his mother what he had seen and his mother called a psychiatrist and scheduled Mikey and appointment.
Mikey sat at the kitchen island, eating his dinner as his mother washed the dishes. He kept his head down. He hadn't been feeling sad lately; he hadn't been feeling anything.
"I don't like my therapist. Dr. Dana is a wack job. I'm not going back," Mikey mumbled into his dinner.
"Mikey, she's just trying to help. But if you really don't like her, I'll find you someone else," his mother turned to face him, drying a glass.
Mikey finished the last bite of his spagetti, "Thanks."
His mother just nodded and took his bowl from him.
Mikey walked up to his room. He hadn't been doing his homework lately and he knew his grades had begun to slip but he didn't really care. He grabbed his backpack from next to his bed and opened it. He pulled out his math book, figuring he might as well try to figure out what they had been learning the past couple weeks that he had been pratically comaotse. He opened the book but the words and numbers meant nothing to him, he stared harder. Sine, Cosine, Tangent? Who cares? He didn't care about anything; nothing excited him, let alone kept his interest. He wasn't able to focus. His mom even tried to cheer him up by buying him a few comic books and even that didn't work. Mikey slammed his math book shut and threw it onto the floor. He flung himself back onto his bed, lying on his back he put his arm across his eyes, falling into a restless sleep.
Thirty minutes later there was a knock at Mikey's bedroom door. He was startled awake. His eyes sprung open and he blinked a few times.
"What?" he asked groggily.
His bedroom door opened slowly and in peaked the blonde head of his best friend, Bob Bryar. Bob was the only person Mikey had really talked to since Gerard's death, and that was mostly because Bob didn't force Mikey to talk about his dead brother.
"Hey," Mikey greeted him, sitting up on his bed.
Bob opened the door wider and walked in. Bob was a tall, bulky guy. On first meeting you might mistake him for a jock, not the best friend of a nerd. Bob looked at his friend sitting on the bed. He hated to see Mikey looking like this, it seemed like he hadn't seen a real smile on his friend face in ages. Mikey spent a lot of time in his room, but it looked like he wasn't getting much sleep, he had noticable bags underneath his eyes. Bob was worried, with good reason. Bob took a seat next to Mikey on his bed. Mikey looked down to Bob's hands to see he was holding a video cassette.
"What's that?" Mikey asked, motioning to the video.
"Oh, it's Willow, I thought you might enjoy it," Bob said handing it to Mikey.
Mikey nodded, "Thanks."
Bob hesitated. Mikey looked over at him, slightly curious, he knew Bob must have come over for some reason besides to give him a less than average movie.
"What are you really doing over here?" Mikey asked.
"Well, it's just I know that you're going through a tough time..." Bob began.
Mikey rolled his eyes. He had guessed this time would come. The time when Bob, too, would gang up on him, telling him to cheer up, that everything would be okay. But Mikey knew it wouldn't be okay, because his only big brother, his father figure, his only other real friend aside from Bob had died! Didn't anyone understand that? Mikey sighed, waiting to hear what Bob had to say.
"...there's this youth group therapy session, every Friday, you might like it. My cousin went there for a while, after her Dad died. She really liked it and she's doing a lot better now," Bob continued.
"That's nice," Mikey said sarcastically, "but I don't need to talk to anyone about what happened. My brother died and talking about it isn't going to change anything." Mikey said, looking away from Bob and out of his bedroom window.
"It might be good to talk to someone, Mikes. It might make you feel better. Less morose?" Bob was trying, but Mikey wasn't biting. "If you're scared, I'll go with you."
Mikey turned his head sharply to look at Bob, "I'm not scared!" He told him, loudly, furrowing his eyebrows. "The last thing I am is scared, Bob! I don't want to sit in a room with a bunch of fucked up kids and hear them complain about things that they can't change, okay!? So drop it!"
Bob was taken aback, in the three years Mikey and Bob had been friends Mikey had never raised his voice at Bob. Thinking back, Bob couldn't remember Mikey raising his voice to anyone, ever. Bob looked at his friend's face, thinking that the obvious lack of sleep and stress must be causing him to have major emotional mood swings.
"Fucking scared," Mikey muttered under his breath.
"I'm just trying to help you out, man," Bob said, quietly.
"Yeah, well I don't need help from you, or anyone else. I'm not a charity case," Mikey said, becoming less angry and more upset.
"Nobody said you were, man," Bob said confused, a second ago Mikey had looked like he was going to punch Bob in the face and now he looked like he might cry.
"Just leave me alone, okay?" Mikey said, turning away from Bob. Mikey got up from the bed and walked to his window.
A tear fell onto Mikey's cheek and he couldn't believe he was crying with someone else in the room, even if Bob couldn't see his face. The last time he had cried in front of anyone was in 7th grade when he had gotten hit in the face with a dodgeball in PE and even then he wasn't really crying, his eye had just teared up from the impact of the ball.
"I didn't mean to upset you, Mikey. I'm sorry, I just thought it might help," Bob said quietly, getting up from Mikey's bed but not moving towards him. Mikey didn't repsond, he just continued to stare out of the window at the dark city skyline.
"Well, I'll go. I'll see you at school tomorrow," Bob continued.
Bob waited a moment, just incase Mikey wanted to say something but once Bob realized that his friend wasn't going to respond he walked out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.
Mikey listened to Bob's footsteps going down the stairs. He heard the hushed murmers of his mother and Bob talking, no doubt about him. And then he heard the front door open and close and out of the window he saw Bob look up at him as he got into his car. They made eye contact for a second, before Mikey quickly turned his back to the window. Still listening, he heard Bob start his car, pull out of the drive way and down the street. That's when his let his tears go.
With blurry vision he stumbled over to the door and turned off his light. Walking back over to his bed he slipped off his hoodie, not bothering to take off his jeans before collapsing onto his bed and crying himself into a fitful sleep.
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