Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > October

You

by thiscircleneverends 2 Reviews

Eliza reflects on the time she got to spend with Gerard before she had to leave for England.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst,Drama,Romance - Characters: Gerard Way - Warnings: [!] [!!] - Published: 2011/10/02 - Updated: 2011/12/19 - 2080 words

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When Eliza Seventrees moves back to the vivacious country of New Jersey with her mother after her parent's divorce, she is reunited with her best friend, Gerard Way. With his jet black hair and porcelain skin he was the perfect outcast, just like Eliza.
What Eliza doesn't realise is that after a year, many things can change, especially the people she left behind...


A/N Ahhh! Just had to delete the story because something went weird -__- .. but I've copied and pasted it all, so it's all here again! Phew! So this is my first story on here... & before anyone says anything I know that Gerard was not seventeen during 2007, but he is in my story. So this first chapter is probably kinda' confusing, but it will make more sense in the next chapter! Anyway, please review!! I will totally accept feed back and -constructive criticism- so please nothing nasty :) also I will try & finish this story asap, but I've just started College & I have a lot of work on :/ but I will try if anyone likes the stroy! I'll probably update tonight if I get good feedback, Thanks!
Song: October - Evanescence.

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You

It was October when I met you. I remember, it was cold, freezing in fact, with crisp air and an ice blue sky. The sun shone through the scarlet leaves, making the trees look as if they were on fire. It was in New Jersey, on the east coast of America, the same place as where we are today, the same place as where I left you and the same place as where I found you again.
I had moved with my mother and father from a small village in England to America. One may think that for a young child, moving to America would barely have any effect on me, I would have been too young to have made friends who I would miss, and family would only be a mere phone call dialled by my parents away. This was true and still remains true, but, little did I know at the time, and, probably to my parents unawareness as well, our small family would soon be torn apart and separated, ripping me away from America and everything I would soon grow to love and cherish.

10th of October 1995. I was five, and I first saw you in the sandpit on my first day of play school in New Jersey. I can still remember what you looked like, what you were wearing, what you were doing, as if my memory had developed a special slot just for you. You were sitting in the pit by yourself, the navy and white knitted jumper you were wearing had specs of sand scattered all over it, sticking to the many tiny weaves making up the jumper which your mother had bought you in attempt to protect you from the autumn weather. You’re raven black, messy hair looked as if it hadn’t been cut for at least two months, it had grown down around your ears, falling around your pale face. You were playing with the miniscule plastic trucks and cars abandoned by the other kids who had moved on to something different and more entertaining in the playground. I was by myself as well, since it was only my first day, however even at my young and oblivious age I was timid, and found it difficult to make friends, but you were alone also, so maybe it wouldn’t be too hard just to go and sit in the pit with you, besides, I did really want to play in the sand with the small, plastic horses which lay next to you, almost buried under the dirty yellow grains. You saw me looking at you, I know you did. I felt your deep hazel eyes burn into mine as our iris’s met. You smiled at me, a sweet, shy, innocent smile, a gesture of friendship. So, I went over to you, just to sit beside you and play in the sand with the toys, an everyday act for a small infant. Little did I know the friendship I was about to bond with you was going to make the biggest impact on my life.

My only hope, my only peace, my only joy, my only strength, I fall into your abounding grace.

For the ten years I got to spend with you, you barely changed at all, well, I did spend almost everyday with you so the changes you developed as you grew were not startling or obvious to me. I guess I began to realise that you were starting to lose your baby fat as you grew, your face becoming thinner and your body leaner. You had grown a new set of teeth by the time you were eleven, when you were thirteen you let your dark hair grow down just above your shoulders and when you had reached fithteen your voice had broken into a deeper pitch compared to your prepubescent voice before. Still, to me, you would always be my best friend. We were inseparable, just like best friends should be. The only difference being that you were a boy and I was a girl, this was strange according to our class mates. Most of the boys would snigger at you openly, they would call you harsh names to your face like ‘Fag’ and ‘Gay Cunt’. I never quite understood how being friends with the opposite sex made you homosexual, but I guess that’s just how immature the average teenager could be. I suffered almost the same kind of treatment from the girls in our year, I could hear them cackling behind my back as I walked down the corridor and I would be regularly labelled a ‘freak’ by the school bitches, receiving cold and shallow looks nearly everywhere I turned. I didn’t care though, I never cared, as long as I had you. We were different, incomparable to anyone else in our high school. Your hair was long and dark, your skin deadly pale while every single other guy had brown or blond hair which was usually cut short to their scalp or slightly longer but stuck up in a messy quiff on top of their heads. They played football or hockey, where as you painted or drew comic book characters. Then there was me, with my shoulder length, dirt blonde hair and equally pale skin, or maybe just a tone darker than yours. I listened to Iron Maiden and Guns’n’Roses when the other girls liked to listen to pop crap. They had darker skin, usually caused by foundation plastered to their plastic faces and were only interested in what type of mascara was best to use. We used to laugh at them, we found them amusing. Not threatening or intimidating as they hoped they would come across to us.
This made their feeble attempts even funnier.
I loved you, as a friend of course, and that was the way it was always going to be, there could be no other way around it. It was me and you, forever.

5th of July 2006. The year I had to leave you was the worse year of my life. We were fithteen, nearly sixteen. Ten years we had spent together, ten years of having almost no one else but each other, just to be ended and ruined by my parent’s divorce. I was being taken back to England with my bastard father. Why I had to leave instead of staying in America where I was being schooled was absolute stupidity to me. The amount of hours I had spent begging my parents to let me stay, the night I spent crying myself to sleep at the thought of leaving you and the painful morning in which I spent trying to work out how I was supposed to tell you I was going. I never really had a plan of how I was going to break it to you, I guess I figured it would just be better if I told it how it was; I was being dragged away from the one person who ever understood me, but when I went round to see you, sitting on your bed in your room, the familiar surroundings of your sketch’s strewn across the floor with your clothes, the smell of you, the smell I had grown so familiar too, it was too much for me.
I’m still not sure what I actually said to you or how I told you I was leaving, it came out as a babbling mess and ended with me dissolving into your arms, sobbing against your chest. I felt you wrap your arms around me and I could sense the shock and realisation you were experiencing, but still, you said nothing, you just held me, let me cry, like a good friend would. I cried in your arms for what felt like hours, until you finally lifted my face so we could look at one another. We were so close, so physically close, I had never been so near to you before. I could see every little detail on your face, the warmth emanating from your body, your breath on my cheek and the long trails of tears running down your face. I bit my lip as I stared into your dark orbs, just wishing I could stay with you forever. It was then when you slowly leant down, closing the distance between us and gently kissed my cheek before you whispered in my ear, something I never thought I would hear you say to me with such emotion.
“I love you, Eliza.”
I took an intake of breath as you said those words to me and I closed my eyes tight shut, letting more tears seep out from behind my eyelids and travel down my face and fall onto your bed sheet beneath us. It was if I had been longing to hear that small statement from you for so long. I slightly pulled away from our embrace so I could push the strands of black hair away from your eyes, and then I cupped your tear stained face with my hands, stroking your cheek with my thumb. I sighed shakily before breathing in and resting my forehead upon yours.
“I love you too, Gerard Way.”

My only hope, all the times I've tried, my only peace, to walk away from you, my only joy, my only strength, I fall into your abounding grace, my only power, my only life, and love is where I am. My only love.

That was one of the last days I ever saw you, well, for that whole year anyway. And now, I’m standing in front of you again. 15th of October 2007. I’ve found you. It feels to me like nothing has changed between us. But you’ve changed, you’re… different. I’m seventeen now and you’re still sixteen, but you look as though you’re around a year older than me. Your hair isn’t as long as it used to be, but it's still long, jet black and soft, in messy black layers, framing your ghostly pale face perfectly. You’re taller, thinner and you seem older. Yet, there’s still something so young about you, so innocent, so, scared. I can’t quite put my finger on it as I study your beautiful face. You’re beautiful. I had never actually realised how angelic you look, yes, angelic, you look like an angel.
Hold me.
Did I just say that? I’m not even sure, did you even hear me?
I don’t think I even heard my self, was it just a longing thought? Yes, I think it was, because I’m longing for you to hold me again, just like you did last year in your bedroom, before I left you. I want you to hold me so much, I want to feel your warmth against my body again. You won’t hold me though, you’re just… staring at me with those massive hazel eyes of yours, burning into me, just like they did so many years ago.

Constantly ignoring, the pain consuming me, but this time it's cut too deep,
I'll never stray again.


It was October when I met you, July when I left you, and October when I found you again.
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