Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > I've got a dirty, little secret.. Or maybe one to many.7 Reviews
Gerard reads more, completely hopeless, confused and scared. He doesn't know his best friend anymore, so he resolves his issues in the only way he knows..
The drug mentioned in this, Roofies, is a drug which erases your memory.. In case you didn't know. xx
Sweetpea misbehaved today. The damn dog pissed on the carpet. But I took care of it..
"What the fuck, SWEETPEA?!" I said as I stared down at the dog, watching as she violated the carpet.
She whimpered; big, puppy eyes looking up at me in sorrow.
"I don't give a shit how sorry you are! Look at what you've done!" I indicated to the big, sopping wet patch of urine that was soaking our carpet. "How the fuck could you do that?! ARE YOU JUST SOME STUPID BITCH?!" I screamed. I swung my leg out, smugly watching as she cried out in pain and flew into the corner.
"See, this is like I'm pissing on you," I said coolly. "It'll just hurt a fuck load more."
Laughing, I kicked her repetitively. Again and again and again...
I remember when Sweetpea went into the vets. Frank called me, worried as hell. Told me Sweetpea was injured; whimpering and bleeding, but no one knew how.
Apparently someone did.
The same prostitute came up too me today. Things went a little differently, but I won. I always win.
"Hun.." she whispered in my ear. "I'm back. But this time, I got a friend."
"Did you not get the message last time?" I asked, spinning around, eye's widening when I saw a huge, beefy man standing next to her, arms crossed over his chest.
I laughed suddenly, nodding.
The man dragged me into the alley way, the prostitute sitting on the dumpster as she watched us with eager eyes. If she thought he'd beat me, she was sorely mistaken.
Staring into the larger mans eyes I grinned, "Let's dance."
He charged at me, swinging a punch in my direction which I swiftly dodged, turning to find his back. I pulled my pocketknife out of my back pocket, selecting the sharpest blade, then sliced it through his back. The clothing ripped, leaving a thick line of scarlet liquid.
He shouted out in the pain as I took in it's metallic smell. The man spun around and pushed me to the floor; my knife scattered across the concrete. He threw several punches into my stomach, hungry eyes watching every time my stomach creased inwards, the breath getting knocked out of me.
But, I didn't give in. I reached out, stretching my arm as far as it could go and grabbed my knife quickly, jabbing it into his back. He stopped and fell to the floor, eyes wide in his pain. I smirked, then stabbed into his stomach one more time. "Rest in peace, motherfucker," I spat.
I'm shaking; gasping each and every minute. I don't know what to do. This isn't Frank, this isn't Frank. He couldn't kill. He wouldn't kill.
Anger, I was boiling with anger today. I didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say. So I acted on it. I gave Ruhyphnol, also known as the Date-rape drug or Roofies, to Jamia.
And holy shit. It helped.
"Jamia!" I shouted. "Coffee's ready!"
She ran into the room, smiled at me and pecked me on the cheek as I handed her the pink mug, watching as she gulped it all down very, very quickly.
The Roofies would work in no time. And, half an hour later, I was proven right. She was ready.
"Jamia," I said. She looked at me. "I had the shittest, fucking day. I've been furious all fucking day."
She smiled sympathetically and went to talk, but I didn't give her the opportunity.
"And I still am," I finished.
Her eyes widened and she stared at me, unsure of what to do, how to react.
But I already knew what I was going to do. I swung my palm to her cheek, again and again, smirking as she whimpered in pain. Taking a small, sharp punch in her belly she keeled over, tears leaking over the rims of her eyes.. I kicked her and punched her constantly, watching as she got beat to a pulp... Then I left her.
She left the house after a while, but I didn't really pay attention; for the first time that day, I wasn't angry.
I remember that night, too. Jamia had gone out and didn't return that night. So Frank, being the 'caring, worried' husband he was, looked for her. She cried into his arms. Frank freaked out about her bruises and dry blood and constantly asked her about it... but she didn't remember.
They got her tested for Roofies and it came out positive. Everyone had thought she'd gotten raped...
Not abused by her husband.
I can't take it anymore, I can't. I really can't. I close the book, putting it in it's exact same position, then do the same with everything else.
I storm out of the room, slamming the door and run out the house. I already know where I'm going, and in a matter of minutes, I'm there.
"I'll have these beers and this wine," I say, placing a six pack of beers and four wine bottles on the counter.
The employee looks at me suspiciously as he scans them in, the soft beep of the machine ringing every now and then. He's got a clean shave and dark brown eyes with slightly mattered, scruffy brown hair.
"It's for a house party," I lie. "Just moved in!"
The employee grins, "Well, I hope you have a nice time."
"I will." I say, "I know I will.."
Who else is so disappointed in Gerard?! :O
R&R is you liked it? :D xx
Oh, and I was going to make it that Frank murdered 'Elena (Gerard's Grandmother) but I didn't. It was going to be a good way of murdering someone: Antifreeze. It's a drug, makes you suffer from chest pains and blah blah blah.. Everyone thinks you die of a heart attack. Which would be thought of as a natural cause. Oh, how wrong..
But I didn't. Does that make me less fucked up?! :D xx