To bring me back to life.
It's kinda sick and a bit twisted and depressing,but I guarantee after this things will start to get better.You notice that my stories swing between melancholy and elation-it goes with my mood swings.I'm bi-polar,and I write Full of Holes when I have extreme mood highs and lows.
If you find this disturbing,morbid and you are unable to drag your eyes away from it,then I have successfully carried out my task.Call me a sick fuck,that's just the way my mind ticks.
So there you go.Think of this as my therapy.
In case you can't tell,I'm in a bad mood.I listen to depressing music when I am.
I'm about to lose my mind
You've been gone for so long
I'm running out of time
I need a doctor
Call me a doctor
I need a doctor
To bring me back to life
We lie in bed together,the only steady noise in the room the slow tick of the clock.Gerard is reading some boring old art book;I'm just sitting here staring into space.The silence isn't awkward but just uncomfortable.I feel like some old couple who get killed in a Hitchcock movie or something.
"So...what are you reading?"
He turns to me."Ulysses by James Joyce.Do you want to read a bit?"He offers the book to me.
"Uh...is it like Stephen King?"
"No.Joyce was born in the 19th century."
"Oh."I turn away,slightly embarrassed but majorly pissed off.I don't give a flying fuck about the book;I just want Gerard to stop acting so weird.
I decide to fuck it all and bite the goddamn bullet.
"Gerard?"I ask innocently,grinning a toothy smile and batting my eyes.
"Do you notice anything different about me?"
He peers at me carefully.
"Uh...did you change your side parting?"
Lord give me strength..
"No."I point to my eye."It's healed.The bruise is gone.Completely."
He sighs and drops the book in his lap.
"Frank,"he says,his eyes large and helpless,"I'm sorry,but not tonight.I had a really shitty day today."
"Even more reason to!"
"Frank,I can't,I'll go apeshit-"
"Gerard,please,"I beseech, straddling him gently,"you won't hurt me."
He unsuccessfully tries to push me off,but I nibble at his ear,and press my chest against his.I feel him physically weaken.
"There's always a possibility,"he says evenly,"that I might.And if I did anything to you,"he looks me in the eye,"how would I live with that?"
"That was one time,"I whisper in his ear,sliding a hand up his shirt,"and you were drunk."
I compress myself against him,sucking at his neck,causing a low,hungry growl to escape from his throat.
"Gerard,"I murmur,"don't you want this?"
"Of course I want this,"he growls,not looking at me,"I want this so badly.But I'll hurt you if we do anything-"
"I don't care,"I whisper,pressing my lips against his quickly.
He pushes me again,but harder this time.So hard,in fact,that I fall backwards,throwing out my neck.
"Ow!"I scream."What the fuck is your problem?"
"Leave me alone,"comes the answer,"just leave me alone for a while."
I stand up,putting my hand to the back of my head.It comes away,smeared in blood.
"Gerard,"I boom,slurring slightly,"if you th-think I'm just gonna leave you drink-"
I run into the bathroom,hurling into the toilet at top speed.When I slump against it,my head pounds and my eyes ache.
"Frank."I hear him croak from the bedroom.Despite just flipping me to the floor,I can make out the slight worry in his voice.But barely."Come back here."
"I'm sorry Gerard,but I don't feel like it right now."Stop talking Frank,you've said enough,just stop talking right now."Go get one of your whores to do it for you."
Okay...that wasn't nice.
Whatever,my mind spits,like he's ever nice to you.
"Frank."Again with that stupid leer in his voice."Can you just come out here for a minute?"
"I can't,"I hiss,"I'm bleeding like fuck.And because of you."
For some fucking reason,my legs obey him,and they stumble into the bedroom.I feel like screaming what are you doing to them,but nothing comes out.I flop down on the bed.
Okay,how many more fucking times is he gonna say my fucking name.
"Are you squimish?"
"Yeah,you're..."his voice breaks and he clears his throat loudly,"you're bleeding pretty...pretty badly there."
"Gerard,"I say,hot tears welling up in my eyes,making my vision blurry,"why are we so fucked up together?"
He doesn't answer.
"I mean,do other couples have this shit?Violence and alcohol?"
He doesn't answer.
"Beat each other up?Or one beats another up?"
He winces when I say that.
"I don't give a fuck,"I say,"you're fucking killing me,Gerard."
"Please answer me.I feel like I'm talking to a fucking brick wall sometimes."
He still doesn't answer,but takes my hand-rather gently,considering the situation-and slips the ring off my finger.When I stare at him incredulously,he shrugs and says:
"I'm killing you,aren't I?"
"Yeah,"I say,tears dripping from my nose,"but I can't fucking live without you."
"That's fucked up."
"Yeah.But it's true.
He stares at me."Even though I hit you and won't allow you to touch me,you still love me?"
"I can't do that,Frank,"he says,his eyes hollow and moon-like,"I can't live while hurting you."
"Well then,"I continue,pleasantly surprised at how well I'm taking this,"you have two options."
"You can go to counselling."
"Or you can leave."
The answer,which had sprung suddenly and without warning off of my tongue,slaps both me and Gerard in the face.
"And,"he carries on,his voice thick and muffled,"do you have a preference?"
I swallow my feelings,telling my heart to shut the fuck up.
"I...I...you should do what you think best."
He blinks,obviously hurt at my response.He stands up and draws himself to his full height before continuing.
"What's best for you is for me to leave,and never to return.For me to hurl myself off a cliff.Or maybe shoot myself in the head.Or the mouth."
I try to hold myself together.
"Yeah...it would be sad,I guess.I mean,Mikey would bean absolute mess at the funeral.He's always been hopeless at that kind of shit,you know."He turns away from me,facing out the window."It would have to be a closed casket service,obviously.Can hardly have my brains all over the floor,can we?"
"No,"I whisper,barely audible.
He carries on,regardless.
"If they even find the body,that is.I mean,it would be pretty hard to find me when I'm at the bottom of the Atlantic,right?I don't think-"
"No,"I say again.Then,screaming:"No,no,NO,NO NO YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME!"
I fight against him,pounding my fists against his chest.I try to holler insults and threats but they come as fluent,mindless gibberish that turn into rapid,chest-racking sobs.I fall into his arms,still throwing aimless punches at him.
"You can't leave!You can't!I will fucking kill myself if you do!"
My screaming has now generated into full roars,my body shaking as I sob.A brief thought passes through my mind as how attractive I must look currently;I swat it away with irritated irrelevance.
"I wasn't going to,I was just-"
"Don't fucking do that!"I yell,striking him in the gut,making him double over.
"Please,"I beg,sinking down to my knees and clinging to his ankles,"please just stay.And go to therapy.Please.I need you."
He joins me crouching on the floor.It pisses me off that he's passing off as Mr.Cool,meanwhile I look like Lindsay Lohan.
He envelopes me in his arms,drawing me close.I take deep,billowing breaths of his musky smell;a smell I haven't smelled in what seems like weeks.
"Honey,I need you,"he murmurs,"without you I would definitely be dead by now."
I bury my head in his shoulder,cherishing the moment.
"If you ever fucking feel like shit,"I instruct him,"you fucking tell someone.I don't care who it is,or where you are.Unlike that stupid fucking song,suicide is not painless.Not just for you,but everyone fucking else.Suicide is a way of betraying your family,friends and lover,"I look him in the eye,"in a way nothing else can."
Silence possesses the room.
"That was powerful,baby,"he mutters.
"What if you have..."he trails off,clearly uncomfortable,"...voices telling you...stuff?"
"Tell that voice to fuck off,their mom is a whore and that you're amazing.Get rid of the voice before it gets rid of you."
That's when I pass out.
I just read over this and I hate it.It fucking disgusts me that I wrote this shit and I want to delete it.But I'll let you guys have a sconce and we'll have a look-see after that.
That shit in the middle about the freaky don't-leave-me-I'll-quit-life thing was kinda my mind taking over...and then I remembered that your personal conflicts should not interfere with your writing.*shady eyes*
The last few things are taken from my therapy sessions.This chapter...was very personal to me.It didn't take too long to write,only about half an hour...it was pretty fluent.Usually I write the chapter in Irish and then remove all the vowels-I'm very secretive about my chapters-but I wrote this in one draft,in English.
Hope it's semi-decent.