I thought you loved me?
Like the good brother he is, Mikey came to see me not long after I had calmed down and cleaned up. I was lying on my stomach on my bunk with my head turned towards the wall when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I swiveled my head to look at Mikey and saw that he had a look of sympathetic pity on his face. Without speaking, he enveloped me in a brotherly hug and left. That’s what I love about Mikey- No questions asked.
The rest of the band members continually asked how I was, offering me food or drinks or anything else that I was quite capable of getting myself. I suppose they were just trying
to care for me, but the only one I needed with me was my Frank.
Frank insisted I sleep squished into his bunk that night. Although the bunks weren’t built for two, we had always found means to cram ourselves into one whenever one of us needed reassurance or company.
Usually, since Frank was a lot shorter, he would sleep nestled into my chest and I would curl my body around him. But tonight, the roles were reversed.
I felt small and unprotected as I pulled myself into a protective ball underneath Frank’s comforting arms.
As the last lights were turned off around the bus, I gripped onto Frank’s torso with fear. With sleep came dreams- that is what I was afraid of. I didn’t want to see My Frank and my band family hung from the gallows. I could imagine their bodies writhing….
Frank shifted and kissed me on top of my head, holding me closer.
“Go to sleep, Gee. I’m here.”
As much as I willed my eyes to close, they stayed wide open and awake as if I were straining to see through the dark. Without realizing, my shoulders began to shake slightly.
Frank briefly squeezed my body with his arms as if he were testing to see if I was shaking or not. As if the test was confirmed, I felt him lift his head slightly and peer down at me.
“Gerard? Are you okay?” He asked in a concerning manner.
I looked up at him through the darkness and tried to shake my head; only managing a few jerks of my neck that could have been taken as a yes or a no.
Frank leant his chin on top of my head and started to hum. He wasn’t the greatest singer, but the vibrations from his humming soon made my eyelids droop.
As much as the fear tried to prevent it, I was soon drifting into a fitful sleep.
The dimming light of the day cast long shadows over the crowd and the darkness was beginning to gather in the nooks and crannies of the street. A slight wind drifted over the heads of all who stood watching, slightly stirring powdered wigs and feathered hats.
I was in the same position as I was before. I stood centre stage with my hands bound by a dull rope while the sneering crowd pointed and laughed at me. I forced myself to keep my eyes pointed in front of me, so as not to see the faces of the people I most loved.
But I could hear them.
“Gerard, how could you do this?”
“…Your own brother, Gerard.”
“It’s your fault that we are going to die.”
“What will the people think of you?”
The voices of my band members swirled around my head and grew louder in volume and tempo. I shut my eyes and furrowed my forehead. I have to wake up….I need to get out of here.
Out of the jumble of voices came one soft sentence uttered sadly.
“I thought you loved me….”
My eyes snapped open to look down at the crowd. Anyone could have picked the smooth voice of that one person, My Frank.
My eyes filled with tears. I tried to talk, to tell him that I DID love him, that I wouldn’t do anything to hurt or upset him; but my mouth seemed glued shut. I couldn’t talk.
The crowd caught sight of my tears and started jeering and laughing at a higher volume, thankfully drowning out the voices of my band members, and predominately, Frank.
I focused my attention on one person in the crowd. She wore a frilly dress with a smooth corset outlining her small hips. Her powdered wig was perched oddly atop her head, complete with a lacy hat that sprouted peacock feathers.
Her face was unpleasantly pointed and drawn into a sneer that upturned her nose and curled her lips. I frowned through my tears as I tried to see what she wore around her neck.
I blinked the tears out of my vision and locked my eyes on the red piece of string tied around her throat. I looked around at the rest of the crowd. Most of the women were also wearing a red string or ribbon tied around their neck as a sort of fashion accessory. I racked my brain for information I had learnt so many years ago in history class. Red ribbons were meant to mean something…
…And then it came to me. They were mocking me. They were mocking all the prisoners.
We weren’t going to be hanged; we were going to the guillotine.
They wore the red around their neck as a symbol for the red that soon would be spewing from our necks and flooding the stage.
My eyes were clouding over with more tears as the realization hit me. I swiveled my head to and fro across the crowds, only seeing pinpricks of red.
The red was mocking me,
…Laughing at me,
I sat up abruptly in the bunk gasping for breath and still seeing spots of red wherever my eyes looked. Wetness streamed from underneath each eye as I struggled to adjust my vision back to reality.
Frank had been unceremoniously dumped on the floor when I sat up so suddenly and he was only now crawling to his feet and starting to switch lights on.
Groans came from the sleeping band members.
“Do you know what bloody time it is?” grunted Bob from a few bunks down.
Frank ignored him and came rushing back to me. He grasped my shoulders and spun me around so that my feet were hanging off the side of the bunk.
“Gerard’s had another nightmare.” Frank explained frantically. “Gerard, can you hear me? Do you need to be sick again?”
I was breathing too hard to reply. My body shook so violently that I had to grab on to the sides of the bunk to keep myself from falling.
Out of nowhere, Mikey was in front of me, slipping some Xanax into my mouth and pouring cold water down my throat. I swallowed eagerly, hopeful that the prescription drug would calm me down.
Mikey and Frank sat on either side of me, hugging me close while we waited for the Xanax to kick in. Ray and Bob looked out from their bunks uncertainly.
After about half as hour of shaking and hyperventilating, the drug finally did its job and I felt myself slipping into a medicated sense of relaxation. Mikey rubbed me on the back and jumped up to make coffee.
Bob and Ray disappeared again behind their curtains, no doubt wanting to catch up on some needed sleep before the next concert later that morning. Frank leant his cheek against my shoulder and held me close.
“Gerard, what has happened?” he asked quietly so as not to be overheard.
I swallowed to regain some more control and quickly tried to recount my dream to him.
“I was there again…except we were going to the guillotine...And they were mocking us, Frank. They wanted us to die.”
“Is that all?” Frank asked cautiously.
I wasn’t comfortable with telling Frank what else had happened in my dream. I didn’t want to tell him that my closest friends had turned against me and taunted me along with the crowd. I didn’t want to tell him that my subconscious self had doubts about the loyalty and friendship of the band members. I didn’t want to tell him the one question Frank had asked me in the dream…
“I thought you loved me….”
I nodded my head in response to Frank’s question. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and laid me back down on his bunk, covering me with blankets and ordering me to stay put while he grabbed some coffee.
The Xanax was leading me into a deeper sense of relaxation. I closed my eyes and slept a medicated, dreamless sleep.
A/N Soooo obviously I've decided to continue this. I'm not sure how long. I have some good ideas that hopefully I can pull off. If it starts getting horribly boring, tell me, k?
Thanks for the reviews I recieved! =] R&Ring is always welcomed.
Thanks for reading.