He's gone. It's just her and the blade.
He snapped the camera at the perfect moment. The two of us laughing, looking into each other’s eyes. His hand tangled in the purple part of my jet black hair. I remembered that day all too well. How just after he took the photo, he dropped the camera and kissed me.
I used to look at the picture and smile, but now…now my vision goes blurry with the tears welling up in my eyes. I turn away from it and focus my attention to the picture I’m holding in my hand. His final message, his last ounce of strength was for me. Every time I glance down to look at it again, I have immediate flashbacks of the day that started the horrible, miserable cloud that had been my life for two months.
We walked through the city. Holding hands, laughing together. Everything was perfect. We didn’t even care that some of the kids from school were shouting at us, calling us freaks. We were used to it because we got it all the time. He was the artist guy with a weird hairstyle and I was his freaky girlfriend who buries herself in music. We liked it that way. Everyone else frowned upon us because we didn’t want to binge drink and act like dickheads to be considered cool.
No, that wasn’t who we were. We were just us and we were happy.
That day, I had to leave early because my parents were pissed that I was out for so long.
We both had shitty families and we got each other through the toughest times.
I hugged him tightly and kissed him goodbye and never forgot to tell him that I loved him. He said he loved me too and smiled as I ran to the train station. I quickly turned to look at him once last time before I turned the corner. He was wearing that dorky smile I loved so much. I blew him one last kiss and he mouthed ‘I love you.’ to me. I blushed and slowly turned. Little did I know, that was the last time I’d ever see him.
I returned home an hour later. My father was angry and drunk, yet again. I think I may have touched a nerve because on that day, he gave me one of the worst beatings I’d ever received. My first instinct was to call Gerard so I could talk to someone. He wasn’t picking up his phone. As I quietly wept in my room, wiping the blood from my busted lip, there was a gentle knock at my bedroom door.
‘What?’ I asked.
‘Come downstairs. There’s someone at the door for you.’ my mother replied.
I took a quick glance in the mirror to make sure there were no obvious bruises or cuts from my father’s earlier drunken rage. I looked alright and so I walked downstairs to the front door. There was a policeman standing there with an extremely serious look on his face. I was immediately nervous and rather confused.
‘Michelle? Michelle Phoenix?’ he asked.
‘Yes. That’s me…’ I replied.
‘I’m officer Martin. I’m afraid I have some bad news.’
My stomach dropped. ‘…yes?’
‘Were you the girlfriend of a young man named Gerard Way?’
What did he mean ‘were you’? My heart started beating abnormally fast. ‘Yes, I am. Why?’
Officer Martin dropped his head, sighed and said ‘I’m so sorry, but he’s dead.’
I start to cry even harder at the memory of it all. The way that when he said those godforsaken words, I practically collapsed to the floor. When I was told how he died, it was one of those ruthless bastards from school. The officer told me that he had bashed my Gerard, dragged him to an alleyway and shot him in the stomach. But Gerard used his last ounce of strength to grab a small piece of chalk he saw lying next to him and wrote me a message.
After I calmed down, my mother and the officer sat me down on the couch to explain everything.
Officer Martin handed me the picture taken of what Gerard has weakly written on the concrete before he died. He had wrote ‘I love you, Michelle. Stay strong.’ I found it amazing how he managed to write that despite the fact that he was dying then and there, but I cried so hard. The one person I loved with all my heart was dead. Gone. Forever. He used his last moments to send me that message. I was feeling to many things at once and all I could to was cry and shake uncontrollably from how hard I was crying.
I lie back down on my bed, with tears still streaming from my eyes. I hold to picture of his final message to my heart and try to take deep slow breaths. He wanted me to stay strong and hold on. I’d spent the last two months trying so hard to do that, but now I was losing any strength I had left. His absence was constantly shoved in my face. I was alone at school. I had no one to call when my father hurt me. I didn’t have anyone to force my weird CD’s upon.
He was just gone.
The deep breaths aren’t working and my sobs get deeper and louder. I roll onto my side with the picture still close to my heart. I close my eyes and think back. My thoughts stop at the day of his funeral.
I was in the second row, behind the rest of Gerard’s family. His mother was speaking about him at the front of the church. I was so hurt. I knew for a fact that no one else knew him better than I did. But his entire family hated me and wasn’t going to let me say a word at his funeral. I was lucky they let me attend.
The ceremony had reached an end and they began carrying his coffin through to hall of the church. I still wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I was hardly keeping control of my tears as I followed the procession after his family went first. As I walked down the isle, I looked through all the faces at the back of the church. A lot of them were the pricks from school. I was enraged at how they had the nerve to show up after all the shit they put Gerard and I through. Fuck, it was one of them who killed him.
I stopped suddenly staring at one boy in particular, he had this certain look in his eye. Almost guilty. I stared at him and he shot a quick glance at me and then avoided all eye contact. I was still looking at him when I felt my mother tugging on my arm and pulling me the rest of the way out of the church.
Later on, they were lowering his coffin into the ground. It broke my heart. I felt as though no pain could be stronger than the pain I was feeling then. Knowing that he was never coming back. It just broke me into a million sharp pieces.
Two months have passed since that day. I still feel the numbing pain. I can’t make it go away.
I sit up and look at my dresser. I open my drawer and pull out the shiny, silver, sharp knife that had been sitting in there for a few weeks, just in case.
‘Something capable of such pain never looked so beautiful.’ I whisper to myself through my tears. I release a sigh.
Before I continue, there’s one more thing I need to do. I put down the picture of his message to me and grab a pen, on the back I write:
’I tried. I can’t live without you…’
I grab the knife and hold it above my wrist.
‘Gerard,’ I whisper to myself again ’Gerard, I tried. I tried so hard. But I can’t do it anymore. I need you and you’re gone, I‘m sorry.’
I sigh to myself and drag the blade down as hard as I can. I feel sharp pains before everything suddenly slows down. The pain shooting up my arm hurts like a crazy bitch. My blood is spilling down on my hand and dripping to the floor.
I can feel the blackness creeping in. It makes me smile for the first time since Gerard died. I’m going to be with him soon. I’m dying and embracing every second. I’ve longed for this for ages. Now, I’m finally getting what I want. What I need.
My breath starts to shorten and I feel my body weaken. I’m slowly sinking to the floor. And just as he did for me, I use my last breath to send a message I hope he hears.
‘I love you. Please be waiting for me.’
My strength ends, my head hits the floor and the blackness takes over.
The end. At last.