Drivin’ me insane,
I’m going off the rails on a crazy train
I lie there, pretending to be asleep, listening to the sounds of screaming and chainsaws coming from the television set. Mikey and Frank talk to each other, Frank taking on the big brother role much better than I’ve ever been able to. I’m happy though, glad to see that they can get along; Mikey needs a friend. I am pleased that he is willing to open up to Frank. This is much better for him than hanging out with a failure like me all the time.
I still feel sick to my stomach as I lie with my face buried in my blanket. Feeling the familiar churning of my stomach I groan. Shit.
"Fuck my life," I grumble, swallowing and keeping it down just long enough for me to get to the bathroom slamming the door shut; Mikey doesn’t deserve to hear this again.
It is too much. As the alcohol comes back up, I black out, and wake up a while later with my head resting on the toilet seat, just like I woke up every night I drank way too much.
"Fuck..." I whisper to the bathroom wall. "I need to stop..."
I just don’t know why it is so hard to do. I’ve seriously considered asking my mom to send me to rehab, because it will help…I know it will. Then again, if I do that, Mikey will be all alone and I will not do that to him. He needs me, as much as I hate it. Loosening my tie, I feel breathing become just a little bit easier. Thank God. I flush the toilet again, and after a few minutes attempt to get on my feet, using the sink for balance. Well, I’m able to stand, that’s a good sign.
I look at myself in the mirror. I’m pale, paler that usual and my face is still caked in the blood I forgot to wash off after getting home. I look like I’ve been to hell and back. Running my hands under the cold water that the spout produces I attempt to clean up my face. My mom is bound to come downstairs and I’d rather her not see me covered in blood.
I don’t feel wasted anymore; I think I threw up most of what I drank. I smell terrible though. So instead of going back into my room I strip out of my clothes, stepping into the shower. Making the water as icy as possible, I wash my body, about to forget about my hair when a tiny voice inside my head tells me I’ve gone to long with the greasy mop on top of my head. I wash my black hair too.
I try so hard to not look at the scars and the freckles I have on my skin but it’s almost impossible. I hate who I am…truly I do. I can’t change anything though, no matter how much I want to. I just can’t find the will power to do it, not in the way I want; not without affecting my brother.
I continue to let the water pour over me, trying to block the thoughts of suicide from my mind. There are just so many ways to do it. I could never actually kill myself though, even when I tried I had thought of Mikey and how he’d be lost without me and I just stopped.
“No!” I holler shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower, reaching for my towel.
“Next time keep it somewhere you can get to it before you get out of the shower, Gerard Way” a vaguely familiar voice says, red towel slung over a thin arm.
“Maybe you should knock next time…Amber,” I reply, wrapping the towel around my waist.
“I just came by to check on Mikey. Is he alright? Word travels,” she’s going on at a million miles per hour in that damn cute accent.
“Mikey’s fine…I think you should go.”
“With pleasure,” she crinkles her nose up, “Your entire house smells like smoke, booze and sweaty boys.”
“Bye gorgeous,” I smile watching her walk back up the stairs.
In return she shows me her middle finger before turning around and smiling, “Behave yourself Gerard Way.”
And with that she’s gone, leaving me with nothing but a wink.
I walk back to my room figuring I must have been in the shower for a lengthy amount of time because both Frank and Mikey are asleep, the disc on menu. Checking my clock I realize I’ve go school tomorrow and it’s alright two o’clock in the morning. Why was Amber in my house at two? I swear to God the girls crazy.
I’m not going to get any sleep tonight, not now, not with so much on my mind. There’s just no point. Instead I get dressed back into my uniform and spend the rest of the night drawing the most perfect vampire I have in a while.
“Fuck sleep," I whisper to the wall, coloring in the eyes with red pen, “I’m a vampire.”