Seriously Julio is stalking me
And obviously this hotel doesn´t have enough dough to employ more computer watchers,because for the last three days Julio has just been stalking around.He´s looking at me now.I bet he knows I´m typing about him.Yeah,that´s right,you Spanish,hair-gelled git.
Lauren´s Current Inspirations:JULIO WALKING AWAY FUCK YES,oh wait no he´s coming back,holy shit he looks like Frodo.
"Can I go see him now?"I question the nurse quietly."I´ll be really quick."
She scowls,and peers in at Gerard.
"Are you Frankie?"
"He´s been askin for ya,"she says in a typical Yankee drawl,"so I guess you can.But make it quick.I´m only leavin ya cuz I´m using the shitter.I´m on the blob and it hurts like a bitch."
What the fuck are you meant to say to that?!
Nurse Britney Spears hobbles away and I enter the hospital room.It´s a harsh,shocking white that stings my eyes.Gerard lies in the bed,tubes running in and out like a train station.His chest rises and falls steadily,his deep breaths labourious.His eyes flicker open and then slide shut.He smiles a thin,sick smile and mutters:
"Yeah,"I reply,sitting next to him gingerly on the bunk,"it´s me."
I kiss his cheek lightly,his skin soft and smooth.
I nod slowly,squeezing his hand gently in mine.I can´t please him with oh,it´s okay,Gerard or it´s not your fault,honey.Because it is his fault.My knuckles turn white as I remember him drooping over the bath,reeking of stale blood and wet cocaine.The fact that he concidered suicide while with me fucking hurts.Like a bitch,to quote the nurse.
why.That was the question I had asked myself for three days.Sleepless nights and tiresome days.Obviously I made Gerard happy,but not happy enought to keep on living.
"What´s wrong?"He croaks."Why-aren´t you talking?"
"Gerard."My voice comes out stronger than I expect."Why did you do that?You could have died."
That´s the point,his eyes shriek.I should have died.
"Because-"breath-"I thought-you didn´t love-"he pauses-"love me."
"Why the fuck would you think that?"
He flinches away as if I´ve hit him,and I immediatly feel bad.
"Gerard.I love you,"I say softly,"and I just want to help you.Please talk to me."
His dark eyes search mine,darting to and fro.Slowly but surely,they fill with tears.
"Gee,"I mummer,caressing his wrist,"don´t be scared.It´s just me."
He sits up,taking one last breath from the oxygen mask.
"Frank."I note the disapperence of my nickname."Remember...that day?"
His tone tells me.
"The day you slapped me?"I ask,with deliberate coolness.
He sighs,a heavy and wreary wheeze."Yes."
"Yes,I remember it,"I clamber between his legs,so that our chests touch,"what about it?"
He sighs again,uneasy about our closeness.He pushes me away gently.
"You´ve heard the phrase,"you show me yours,I´ll show you mine?""
I nod,wondering where this is going."Yeah,I´ve heard of it."
A tear slips down his cheek,but he swipes it away angrily."You´ve shown my yours,"he begins to pull at his shirt,"now I´ll show you mine."
Tens of angry scarlet slashes stand out against his pale chest.Some are thin,small little gaps;most are thick,deep gashes that pulsate by their own accord.
I trace one lightly with my index finger.I hear him inhale sharply.
"I´m sorry,does that hurt?"
"No,"he replies defiantly,"but you should stop all the same."He enclasps my hand in his,and guides it away from his abdomen.
"I can´t do anything to you,"he states wihtout looking at me,"until that bruise is gone."He gestures vaguely towards my eye."It´d be nice if you extended the same courtesy to me."
"What?Not having sex is a courtesy?"
"I can´t even touch you,can I?"
"No,you can´t,"he says,crossing his arms.
Quietly:"Don´t be.It´s not your fault."
I nod,understanding."Is that why you-"
"Yes,"he hisses.Then his face softens,and he rubs his temples.
"I´m sorry.I love you more than anything,you know that,right?"
I nod again.
"I just...I can´t hurt you again.I couldn´t live with myself,Frankie."
"Yo!"I hear soemone crow from outside.It´s Britney."Time´s up,asswipe!"
I turn to go,but Gerard yanks my hand and presses his lips to my ear.
"Take this,"he mutters,pressing soemthing inyo my palm,"and tell me what you think."
I leave,observing the small red notebook Gerard has given me.
I love you more than anything,you know that,right?
That´s what I assume.
Then a sing song voice in the back of my mind:
Assume can make an ass out of u and me,Frankie boy.
X X X X X
Bert McCracken feels good tonight.It´s not just the spunk or the booze-although God knows they help-but tonight he´s really feeling good.Like that jazz song those Muse faggots covered a few years ago.
He stumbles along,a bag of McDonalds in one hand,his father´s Swiss Army knife in the other.Albert Senior was an abusive old fuck,but at least he left Bert the little cutter,which had come in miiiighty useful over the years.Which would come miiighty useful tonight,mattera fact.
A young couple across the street interrupt his thoughts.They hold hands,occasionally swigging from bottles of Bud.Every so often they throw their pretty little necks back and laugh.
Seeing this pisses on Bert´s good mood,as it makes him aware of his current girlfriend.Her name is Carla.Or is it Kimberley?Maybe Eva.No,no,definetly Kimberley.Carla was last month´s and Eva was just a side-whore.She´s good though,Eva.Pretty little brunette,couldn´t be more than ninteen.And all for $20.You just didn´t get value like that anymore.
Anyway,back to Kimberley.Some cowardly little slut with big boobs and blond hair.She was a good enough fuck,but Bert knows she has other dudes.Can´t hide anything from old Bertie.
He steps into the filthy apartment.Pizza boxes,condoms and bottles litter the floor.It stinks like fuckall in here,but both inhabitants are usually too high to notice.
The TV is on.Images of guys in suits and heavy eye make up flash across the screen.Ugh.My Chemical Romance.Bert switches off the televison,the picture dying slowly.Bert´s good mood dies with it.
"KIMBERLEY!"He bawls to the empty room.He marches around the flat,girl-hunting.He finds her in the bathrrom,vomiting.
Stupid whore probably had AIDS,Bert figures.
"Kimberley,"he croons drunkenly,"I have something for you."He draws the knife,and clicks the blade.
"Bert,"she pleads weakly,"please Bert,please don´t."
X XX X X X X X
It is dark.So dark.
I am holding my father´s hand,and Mikey is on his shoulders.I´m eight,maybe nine.Mikey must be five or six.
Slowly,so very slowly,a dim light comes into view.A snare drum is being tapped lightly,like a military fugue.Men and women emerge from the light.Wearing black,all black.Naval uniforms,eye make up,marching batons.The beat is louder now,a pulsating pound.
In the middle of the paraders stands a sick,plae man in a hospital johnnie,with a drak medal,pendanty thing hanging from his neck.He is dazed,sweating and painfully thin.Cancer,most likely.
More characters reveal themselves.A woman in a gothic,nineteenth century dress,equipped with an old fashioned gas mask.A griining skeleton in the same Naval unifrom,twirling a baton between his phalanges.
There is a sign.A sign.Something about starving to death...
IN A LAND OF PLENTY!!
The paraders advance towards us.They never touch us,or even acknowledge our exitence.We are by-standers in the whole thing.They simply carry on.
It´s mind blowing.
It is...The Black Parade.