one shot.loosely based off "Streetcar Named Desire" by Tennessee Williams.
We were young-too young-when Sofia and I fell in love.In fact,we were so young I wouldn't even call it love.I call it going on a date to the movies and then doing it in the back of her dad's Buick.Now,I'm no expert in romantic literature,but I don't think that is the definition of "love."
The main reason we even got married was just cause Sofia was pregnant.I remember our matrimony.The slashing of both our childhood dreams.I wanted to be in a band,change the world,be somebody phenomenal.Sofia wanted to be a supermodel. Sofia-who was now heavily pregnant-and I couldn’t dream of affording a religious ceremony ,so we got married in Vegas.It was as far from romantic as you could get.My tux was sweats and a Misfits hoodie and Sofia’s dream dress-the one from the weirdly named one....Vera Dick?-was a dirty t-shirt and jeans.Our “meal” was a Big Mac for me and Sofia throwing up in the jacks.We went home in the aforementioned Buick in complete and utter silence.
Charlotte Donna Costelloe-Way was born two weeks later,at around four in the afternoon.I was allowed go home early from my 9-5 shift at Starbucks.I remember how Sofia looked that day.She looked-well,she looked as good as a seventeen-year-old mother could.
We had a really weird relationship,Sofia and I.We never really talked,but yet we were perfectly civil to one another.We never really went out as a couple.That’s why I found it weird when Sofia suggested we go to some “awesome Vegas nightclub” for our fifth wedding anniversary.Rekindle an old flame,as it were.I was never really into clubbing,but agreed to it out of courteous distatchment.We found a babysitter for Charlotte and headed for Las Vegas.
I should’ve known something was up;Sofia’s eyes had too much of a spark,her face was too bright,her speech too giddy.It crossed my mind she might’ve been on something,but I shook it away with loyal naivety.
We arrived in Vegas around ten in the evening.Sofia was in a tight red dress that complimented her alabaster skin and ebony hair beautifully.It was like we were seventeen again.
We danced for a while,and then I got talking to an old friend of mine.Rob or Bob or something-it’s irrelevant.After a short while,I noticed Sofia was no longer at the club.I asked some of her girlfriends if they knew where she was,but it was useless.They were wasted.I rang Sofia a few times but there was no answer.Of course.Trust her to ruin what would’ve been a great night out.I decided to go to bed,and,in doing that,made a large discovery.
My bedroom,which I presumed empty,was actually occupied by two people.
I marched straight over and grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her out into the hotel hallway.
“Gerard,"she sobbed.Her voice was shrill and desperate,like that of a guilty criminal who is sentenced to death for his crimes."I n-n-never meant to huh-hurt you!"
"You SLUT!"I yelled in her face.We must have looked terrible,two kids yelling at one another.What’s more,Sofia was in her bra and underwear.I noticed with distaste there was white substance around her nostrils.Nonetheless,I continued.
"Why the fuck did you do this?Does this mean anything to you?"At this,I shook my finger with the wedding band at her.She was still weeping steadily.
"This is why you wanted to come here,wasn't it?"
"Yes,"she finally admitted,sinking down to her knees.”But I love you-“she hugged my shins,”only you,Gerard.”
Whore.I almost believed her for a second.
"Get off me."
She did,but said:”I-“
"Shut up.You fucking disgust me."
God,if I had never said that...
X X X X
I glanced at my watch:11:41 PM.
It had been precisely eleven minutes since I had screamed at Sofia.Should I go back and apologise? Hell no.That bitch was cheating on me.Not only that,but she was cheating on Charlotte too....
My thoughts were interrupted by someone chatting loudly next to me.I looked around.I had apparently fallen asleep on a park bench.
A woman next to me turned around ,her face creased with anxiety.
“Oh,haven’t you heard?Oh,it’s just awful....you see-“
Except then I saw the stretcher.And her hand.That unmistakable hand-with it’s nibbled magenta nails and the lump on the middle finger-hanging down the side of the stretcher.
“How did she do it?”I croaked.
“Stuck a revolver into her mouth and fired,least that’s what I heard.Her head was completely blown away.Couldn't have been more than twenty five......kids,eh?”
X X X X
You’re all grown up now,Charlotte.Thirteen?Wow,you’re a young lady now!Mikey didn’t want me to give this to you,but I did.Why?Mainly so that you know why you never see your real father.Why you grew up with Uncle Mikey and Aunt Alicia.
I must seem like a distant memory to you now.That upsets me but is definetly for the best.I don’t deserve you,Charlotte.
There’s this play I did when I met your mother...it goes like:
“And then the searchlight which had been turned on the world was turned off again and never for one moment since has there any light that’s stronger than this kitchen candle.....”
That’s what happened that night,nine years ago.The light just went off inside my mind.
And has stayed off ever since.
Gerard Arthur Way,
Jersey Mental Asylum,