Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance

In The End.

by BadBlow11 2 Reviews

"Have you ever watched someone you love slowly destroy themselves...I have." [ONESHOT] After the unexpected death of a bandmember, someone writes a letter expressing their true feelings.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: G - Genres: Drama - Characters: Bob Bryar,Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Mikey Way,Ray Toro - Published: 2012/08/17 - Updated: 2012/08/17 - 1152 words - Complete

Hey guys, so this was something I wrote to try and get rid of writers block the other night.
Hopefully, its okay. Let me know what ye think about it and stuff,

S.L.
xO




Have you ever watched someone you love slowly destroy themselves, warp themselves into something totally unrecognisable just because they wont ask for help?

I have.

I can’t exactly pinpoint when it first began. When he first began to change, but I have a fair idea. It started sometime in high-school. Can you believe that? That seems like another time, another life. High school sucked for both of us, man, but I still hold many of our closest memories there.

Like how we would walk to school in the rain arguing over some lame-ass TV show, or book, or video game, or some band. It was always something trivial like that, but you were probably the most stubborn kid I knew. A trait you took well into your adult life. Anyone who’s worked with you knows what I’m talking about.

So I’d always back off and you’d give me that smirk, that stupid smirk that made me want to punch you in the face every time you fucking made it. It still does now.

Or how about the time you almost blew the entire student body up in science because ‘The stupid flame thing was being an asshole!’ Man, you were banned from class for ages after that.

D’you remember lunch and how’d you have us all laughing with the stupid things you came out with? I still can’t get the image of Ray squirting milk out of his nose outta my mind. It still causes me to fucking gag, even now.

But the memory I love most from that time was in music. You sat in the back by yourself, as always and I had come to talk to you about something, but I walked in and there you were. Standing up, singing like nothing I’ve heard before. Your voice was truly amazing. You never believed me, though. Not even after millions of people would pay to come and see you sing. Not then, not now, not ever.

But then something changed. Everything fucking changed. Your usual laidback, not-giving-a-fuck- attitude seemed to have been pulled out of your soul. You became a lot more… reclusive. You stopped hanging out with me and the gang didn’t come to any events we planned. You began to skip classes and your grades fell… hard. You broke up with Alice and didn’t date again until that bitch years later.

Something bad happened and you turned to booze and pills. Not me, not Mom, not anyone.

You were only seventeen! I watched you from the sidelines of your life, slowly tearing it apart unable to help. And Sweet Jesus did I try and help. Everyday I would check on you. I’d let myself into your bedroom afraid of what I’d find.

You’d have your good days and bad days. Sometimes there’d be another new bandage around your skinny, fragile wrist. Other times you’d be passed out on the bed, oblivious to the world around you.

But the ‘bullying’ got worse, and so did your coping methods. Drug and booze intake increased, food intake decreased. I was fucking stumped on how you were getting the drugs and booze, but we lived in New Jersey, so that was that answered.

Then something weird happened. Just before school finished, you stopped everything, became sober, clean. I was so happy. I had the old you back. You went on with your life, got some job in New York and got another girlfriend.

You were back for about what, four years?

Then shit hit the fan.

You witnessed 9/11 and it seemed to have some sort of domino effect on you. You quit your job, broke up with your girlfriend, started drinking and using again and decided you wanted to start a band.

Like who the fuck does that? You, that’s who.

I was in shock when you asked me to join, but agreed to nonetheless.

Fast-forward a few years and the band’s released a second album, three singles from that album and we were touring like crazy. There was an army of fans that were utterly devoted to you and the band.

But that wasn’t enough, was it? Nothing was ever enough. Never enough booze, never enough drugs, never enough methods of self destruction.

I tried to help, I honestly did. Everyone tried to help, but you wanted something that we couldn’t give you. You wanted happiness.

Slowly everything became too much for you. The drug addiction, the alcoholism, the depression, everything. And you were on the verge of suicide, but you pulled through it again. I’ve never been prouder than you, never.

Fuckloads of therapy later, we were finished The Black Parade, became absolutely huge and toured like fuck. And you were back again, and stayed there for good this time. So I thought.

I honestly thought you were happy. You were married, had a kid and were almost smiling and joking with us. I wanted it to be like that forever. But I was foolish, ignorant by bliss and all that.


I don’t know how you managed to work through all those years with the secrets you kept bottled up. All those haunting memories he fucking let you with. I wish you told me, I could have helped.

But you were always good at hiding things, weren’t you? So you kept hiding those secrets, through Danger Days and you bullshitted to everyone how ‘happy’ you were. But we all saw the truth. We saw how you would excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and come back with that weird look in your eyes. The drugs had made their appearance yet again. And what followed them? The crippling depression and something else nobody expected.

Your suicide.

I remember Lindsey ringing me, crying down the phone. I remember breaking down. I remember not believing it; you were so full of life and happy. I cried for about a month straight, I still cry now.

We all loved you so much, Gerard. You didn’t have to leave like that. We would’ve understood about the Cancer, Gee. We would’ve I swear to god!

But now it’s too late. And you’re gone. And we are all left to get back to our lives like nothing has ever happened, but that cant happen.

I loved you Gerard. More than you think you know.

So long and goodnight, Gee.

Mikey.

Soo, was it okay? I son't really write stuff like this, so yeah...
I dunno what compelled me to write it...

Rate and Review for something awesome.

Love ye all!

S.L.
xO
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