Gerard just can't help it. He likes to see Mikey suffer, as horrific as it may sound. Slightly edited.
I honestly never tought this day would come.
No, of course I did. I won't lie to myself, specially not to you dear brother.
As possibly nasty, damned, full of sin and just plain horrific as it sounds I often dreamed about your dead. But not becaused I hated you or something close to that, no, in fact I really loved you. I loved you a lot. I loved you to pieces Mikey. It's just that I couldn't help myself, I enjoyed imagining scenes of you dying, or mom and dad dying, even the fucking dog dying. I was unfixedly messed up. I know deep down you knew it but refused to believe it. You acted as if I was your hero.
How can I forget when you came running to my arms after those unforgetable rough days at school. You told me how you wish you could just drop dead right at that moment. You told me to please stop making your heart ache so much, but how could I if I didn't really wanted to. And even if I did, your heart was also unfixedly messed up, way too broken beyond repair, just like my sanity. So destroyed it was just a beautiful disaster. I remember your hysteric cries swirming in my head like a slightly cool breeze that makes you shiver in a winter morning, it feels somewhat soothing. Amazingly soothing indeed.
I would wrap my arms around your fragile frame and embrace you in a warm but tainted hug while you told me all about your sorrows, and I would fake a concerned voice that told you everything would be alright the next day, when in reality it would be worse. I knew that you didn't quite believe my words, but some how you managed to make yourself believe them. I somewhat felt pityfull, knowing that you were my brother and I had to feel some kind of remorse. That I shouldn't like to see you suffer. But I did, it was as if it was the only thing worth my time, watching your crystal tears run down your bruised cheeks from your black eyes.
People will think, who in hi's right mentality enjoys hi's brother suffering? Going through what you were going through? But that's the thing, I'm not one with a right mentality.
Watching your bruised face gave me an entoxicating pleasure that even I feel sick to the stomach. But I couldn't help it, it was like if watching you slowly tear apart made my heart pump. I couldn't live without your complains about not wanting to go to school, about you being spat at in the hallways, about you being beat up in the locker rooms and thrown into trash bins. I couldn' live without your silent whimpers you made during your sleep because of your nightmares. I loved to see you break.
That's why everyday when you came back from school I was ready for whatever new dilema you had suffered. I would always be ready for you to come running to my arms and make yourself believe every word that came out if my mouth.
Sometimes when I saw you come in through that door I had to resist the urge to smirk in case you would question it. Eventhough I frankly knew you wouldn't. Your desire for a caring brother was stronger than reality. I sometimes heard that little voice telling me that it was all wrong. That I was insane. But I already knew that. Me being insane wasn't the real problem.
That real problem was me not really caring about you. The real problem was you Mikey. I deep down wanted to be that honest older brother that really meant what he said. But I knew I couldn't as much as I wanted to. I knew I would never become that caring lovely brother you deserved. And I really am sorry. I'm telling you this from the bottom of my heart, as peachy as it sounds, I really am sorry.
But after all, I'm a mother fucking masochist and I can't help it. That's who I am. Insane and maniac, but it's me after all.
That's why today, this day I'm desperate. You finally had enough of your miserable life and commited the sinful act of suicide. I sincerly tough I would feel different. That I would feel something beyond pleasure itself when I saw you laying on your coffin as sickening as it may sound. But the only thing runing through my veins is the grim feeling of guilt sinking down to the pit of my stomach and rotting there. A new feeling that I've never experienced before. I know I deserve it but I sure as hell don't like it.
Now, looking down at your grave I think to myself.
Could I of possibly saved you? If I wasn't so crazily selfish?
But I guess I'll never know. That's why tonight I'm planing on joining you. I guess that'll be my way of giving you payback for all the days you suffered and came running to my open arms just to hear my "kind" words that you so deeply believed in but were the falsest thing in the world. I'll get to feel what you felt. But I'll admit it; the simple tought of me slicing my throath makes my heart beat faster with exitement. I still, after all, I still am crazy.
And scince I enjoy even the mere tought of suffer, I'm guessing I'll enjoy myself Mikes.
(/.\) I was REALLY nerveous about posting this so just tell me what you think. Even if you think it totally stinked. Seriously, just review please and I'll love you forever. And when I say I'll love you forever I fucking mean it.