Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > We'll wake the Thought Police
A/N THIS IS THE WHOLE CHAPTER, I POSTED HALF WAY THROUGH WRITING IT. IF YOU THINK 'OH, I'VE ALREADY READ THIS' MAYBE YOU HAVEN'T!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"There you go, Gerard." Says the doctor man with a shock of red hair, pulling the needle from my arm. I used to be afraid of needles, but now they're a part of my tri-weekly life. They always were, but when you're younger they give you pills, that aren't too strong. They can't do that if you've gone through puberty.
"You're roommates with Frank, yes?" He asks. I slowly nod.
"Take care of that boy." He says firmly, patting my shoulder twice. "Not that probably know what I just said...I really do detest The Drug." He sigh.
"I'll make sure Frank is fine." I say, a little too quickly. I'm just breaking rules left and right, Frank got my guard down. "So you don't have to worry." I say, this time at normal zombie pace.
The ginger man lifts his eyebrows. "I think I'm going to request being your doctor permanently."
"Are you Frank's doctor?" I ask.
He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, my wife is."
XXXX(NOT THE END JUST A BIT LATER)XXXX
Scraaaaaaaaaaape, scraaaaaaaaaaaaape, scraaaaaaaaaaape....
The factory room makes that awful sound, as workers scrape ink across their respective silk screens. As we scrape ink, staining the fabric beneath with red, black, blue or green.
I work with a dark blue semi-paste like ink, scrapping a pattern of trees(Nan told me about these), many of them, all twisting around themselves and each other in an eery, yet beautiful way. I scrape this pattern, just like anyone else would with their pattern, into the cotton polyester mixed fabrics.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing
The bell rings lazily, like it has something better to do than direct a zombie hoard.
We all slowly shuffle into the eating area , grabbing our pills and milk. I hate milk. It's a disgusting thing, tastes awful.
"I hate these, they taste awful." Frank says, a tad whiny under the zombie-ness. He swallows the pills, and I assume he was talking about them, not the milk. Nan said milk's common there.
"No, they're not very good, not that I've had a lot of comparison. But they get you what you need, which ones are given to you is based on body mass and how much strength your job requires. Trust, there are worse tasting ones. Nan hated these pills, too. She said we shouldn't have to eat this when there is lots of food going to waste. She said food was something that could make your mouth burn, could delight you so you'd always want more, pucker your lips." I say.
"Speaking of puckering lips..." Frank grins, wiggling his eyebrows. "Who is it you like?"
"Frank!" I his. "You're breaking rule 6!" I exclaim in hushed tones.
His face reeks of confusion. "Just go back to your zombie face!" I demand, and he follows order.
"Rule 6?" He asks.
"Never show any non-zombie facial expression!" I say, slowly but surely.
"Ah..." Is his only comment. "Who do you like?" He slowly looks around. "You said it was a guy...is he in this room?"
"Alll the guys I know, not counting the secuirity are in this room." I tell him.
"That's a yes..." He says. My cheeks flame red, in what Nan called a 'reflex'.
"You gonna tell me who it is?" He asks.
I slowly shake my head. "No, I'm not."
"I'll get it out of you eventually." He promises.
"I have little doubt about that." I sigh.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing
Sounds the indifferent bell .
We get up slowly, and just as slowly we walk back into our false reality of life and work.
YUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP. Sorry I posted the second half of this late, I was sick and thus got kicked off the computer. (It was only 10 pm!) But yes, I would appreciate it if you would Rate or Review, I relly like reviews and I generally don't mind reates(Good or bad, I want the truth though I don't know why you'd still be reading if you didn't like it...) R&R or I set the hounds on you.
"There you go, Gerard." Says the doctor man with a shock of red hair, pulling the needle from my arm. I used to be afraid of needles, but now they're a part of my tri-weekly life. They always were, but when you're younger they give you pills, that aren't too strong. They can't do that if you've gone through puberty.
"You're roommates with Frank, yes?" He asks. I slowly nod.
"Take care of that boy." He says firmly, patting my shoulder twice. "Not that probably know what I just said...I really do detest The Drug." He sigh.
"I'll make sure Frank is fine." I say, a little too quickly. I'm just breaking rules left and right, Frank got my guard down. "So you don't have to worry." I say, this time at normal zombie pace.
The ginger man lifts his eyebrows. "I think I'm going to request being your doctor permanently."
"Are you Frank's doctor?" I ask.
He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, my wife is."
XXXX(NOT THE END JUST A BIT LATER)XXXX
Scraaaaaaaaaaape, scraaaaaaaaaaaaape, scraaaaaaaaaaape....
The factory room makes that awful sound, as workers scrape ink across their respective silk screens. As we scrape ink, staining the fabric beneath with red, black, blue or green.
I work with a dark blue semi-paste like ink, scrapping a pattern of trees(Nan told me about these), many of them, all twisting around themselves and each other in an eery, yet beautiful way. I scrape this pattern, just like anyone else would with their pattern, into the cotton polyester mixed fabrics.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing
The bell rings lazily, like it has something better to do than direct a zombie hoard.
We all slowly shuffle into the eating area , grabbing our pills and milk. I hate milk. It's a disgusting thing, tastes awful.
"I hate these, they taste awful." Frank says, a tad whiny under the zombie-ness. He swallows the pills, and I assume he was talking about them, not the milk. Nan said milk's common there.
"No, they're not very good, not that I've had a lot of comparison. But they get you what you need, which ones are given to you is based on body mass and how much strength your job requires. Trust, there are worse tasting ones. Nan hated these pills, too. She said we shouldn't have to eat this when there is lots of food going to waste. She said food was something that could make your mouth burn, could delight you so you'd always want more, pucker your lips." I say.
"Speaking of puckering lips..." Frank grins, wiggling his eyebrows. "Who is it you like?"
"Frank!" I his. "You're breaking rule 6!" I exclaim in hushed tones.
His face reeks of confusion. "Just go back to your zombie face!" I demand, and he follows order.
"Rule 6?" He asks.
"Never show any non-zombie facial expression!" I say, slowly but surely.
"Ah..." Is his only comment. "Who do you like?" He slowly looks around. "You said it was a guy...is he in this room?"
"Alll the guys I know, not counting the secuirity are in this room." I tell him.
"That's a yes..." He says. My cheeks flame red, in what Nan called a 'reflex'.
"You gonna tell me who it is?" He asks.
I slowly shake my head. "No, I'm not."
"I'll get it out of you eventually." He promises.
"I have little doubt about that." I sigh.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing
Sounds the indifferent bell .
We get up slowly, and just as slowly we walk back into our false reality of life and work.
YUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP. Sorry I posted the second half of this late, I was sick and thus got kicked off the computer. (It was only 10 pm!) But yes, I would appreciate it if you would Rate or Review, I relly like reviews and I generally don't mind reates(Good or bad, I want the truth though I don't know why you'd still be reading if you didn't like it...) R&R or I set the hounds on you.
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