Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Cemetery Drive
Chapter 3. Helena
0 reviews"Young. Slim. With long, black, flowing hair. Her unusually bright blue eyes held Frank's own in place."
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Something even I didn't expect! I just thought of it as I was writing the story and couldn't come up with any nice names, so I was like, hey why not use Helena! So I really hope you like it because I'm planning on writing more whether you like it or not! ¦) ~KilljoyBandit
Chapter 3 - Helena
Frank had had enough of his new room after just a few minutes. There was a dresser with three drawers. One contained neatly organized clean socks and underwear, one was completely empty, so Frank guessed he could keep all his imaginary belongings there, but the contents of the top drawer actually made his jaw drop. It was filled with clothes, made from the same grey, thin material as the outfit he was wearing now. There were seven T-shirts, seven pairs of straight long trousers, seven pairs of loose shorts and two zip-up jumpers, made from a much thicker material, all of which were loose and baggy, and had the number 6 scruffily stitched onto the back.
This was a nightmare to Frank. He had no idea why, but he just couldn't stand the idea of looking just like everyone else, day in, day out, for what could possibly be the rest of his life.
He closed the dresser drawer and decided to explore the rest of his room. Opposite the dresser there was just a neatly made bed, with rounded metal pipes for legs. It had a white, soft-looking pillow and white sheets, and on top of it, lay a thick, black A5 book. As Frank flipped through it he noticed it was completely empty, so he just put it back for the time being.
Apart from that all that was in the room was a tiny barred window, just like the one in the room he'd been in before, and a double white door, with a small one way mirror, so it was a mirror to him, but a window to others.
And of course, no mental hospital room would be complete without two small security cameras in two opposite corners of the ceiling. There was no way Frank could know, but he didn't think that there was ever anything that made him quite so uncomfortable before.
He sat down on the edge of his bed, looking down at the smooth, plastic-y floor, then got up almost immediately.
He jumped as he accidentally slammed the door behind him and left the claustrophobic little cage, to try and explore a bit more.
After leaving his room, he took a right down the almost frighteningly boring-looking corridor, and came to a stop when he reached a bright, large area, with about six corridors leading out of it.
The place was full of people, guys roughly his age, sitting on chairs, playing, or trying to play, board games, talking, some were rolling on the ground.
Feeling lost and very out of place, Frank noticed a small, grey sofa in the middle of the room. It was empty, so he walked over and perched himself awkwardly on the edge.
Finding a small remote with a soft rubbery cover, he switched on the tiny TV, mounted to the TV stand with screws and bolts, and flipped through the channels. He left the news on and stared blankly at the small screen, until something that caught his attention came on.
“We all know of the biggest murderer in the world, the US Government's most wanted, the one who'd killed one person every week for nearly the past two years. We know of his incredible killing methods, and how every time he kills a new victim, he takes them out to a random cemetery in or near Belleville, New Jersey, and buries them there. And yet his identity has remained a mystery this whole time. But what many people haven't realised, is that there hasn't been a murder of this kind for over two weeks. Has the world's most wanted killer, stopped killing? And if so, why? That's it for...”
Frank's thoughts trailed off. That's horrible. How can someone do something like that...? I wonder who it is... Could it be... Those deep, green eyes, so full of hate, ran through his mind, sending shock waves around his brain, and little needles of terror, stabbing at his heart...
“Fucked up shit, ain't it?” The mysterious voice behind him made his heart skip a beat, and his vocal chords lose control. Frank let out a surprisingly high pitched squeal, and fell backwards onto the rubbery floor as the shock made his head spin.
“R'lax, pansy, just me!”
As Frank looked up, he saw the crazy, red-haired boy sat on the couch which Frank had previously been sitting on.
“My 'lil bro's in here too. His name's Mikey. He's 16. And I'm 18. I'm Gerard by the way.”
Frank, still on the floor, didn't know how to reply to that. His eyes darted wildly from Gerard's face, to the mysterious metal cuff locked around his left wrist, and back again.
“Now would be the time for you to introduce yourself. Can't you speak or summin?” Gerard noticed Frank's wild expression and added, “Chill out, kay? I don't bite.”
At that moment they both remembered what happened with Gerard and the doctors only about half an hour ago.
“Well, unless you piss me off, that is.” He announced casually, flipping through the channels on TV, his gaze almost burning a hole right through the screen.
Frank picked himself up off the ground and just stared, everything and nothing running through his mind all at once.
“Kay, lemme make it easier for ya... I'm Gerard. And you are...? Gerard asked, emphasizing the last five words of that sentence.
“Erm... uh... Fran... I mean Frank... um... yeah...” Stammered Frank, feeling like like a complete airhead.
Gerard peeled his now calm, green eyes away from the TV. “Pleased to please ya, Frannie. What'cha in here for, then?” He questioned.
Frank wasn't at all comfortable with that question, since he didn't exactly know himself. “Uhh... I don't actually... I don't remember...”
“What do you mean you don't remember?” Gerard leaned his right elbow on the back of the couch and tucked his legs in, shifting sideways to face Frank who was now sitting awkwardly next to him.
“I- I think I have amnesia. There was some kind of accident, and Paranoia, or something...” Fran trailed off.
At that moment, Frank lost his trail of thought as he saw a nurse walk by. But it wasn't the nurse who dragged him down the hallway before. This one was different. Young. Slim, with long, black, flowing hair.
Frank's heart skipped as she walked over to him, smiling warmly.
“You must be Frank, the new one, right?” She asked, melting Frank's brain and draining him of all his ability to speak properly.
“Y-y-y-yeah, me, I mean... uh, it's I, I mean me, I'm Frank.” He uttered, blushing and feeling the warmth of the blood that rushed up to his cheeks.
The nurse smiled. “I'm Helena, I'm a nurse here, as you can probably tell. It's so nice to meet you.” Her unusually bright, blue eyes held Frank's own in place, and he didn't dare break the eye contact, as if the world would explode if he did.
“Nuh... erm... nice to meet mee- you, nice to meet you too.”
Helena giggled. “I'll see you around.” And with that she turned around and disappeared around the corner.
“Dude...” Gerard's quiet, obviously creeped out voice brought Frank back down to Earth. He was sitting completely still, so still that he may as well have been a mannequin, placed there only to make Frank uncomfortable. He was leaning back slightly, his mouth hanging open slightly, his green eyes so lost and confused, and his forehead wrinkled, as if he'd just seen something that shocked him completely, and was trying to make sense of it all.
“Everything alright?” Frank asked cautiously, still slightly afraid of his new, insane friend.
Gerard decided to ignore that and ask his own question instead. “Are you by any chance schizophrenic?”
“Oh, yeah, now that I think about it, Dr. Martinez did mention something about that. Anyway, what were we talking about again?”
“Why we're in here.” Gerard reminded him. “So, you're paranoid and schizophrenic. My turn, I guess. So, mine's kinda a long story, but it's not like we have anything else to do. Basically, I had depression, so I was put on some weird antidepressant. And it was the best thing in the world, I was just such a happy person, everything was sunshine and rainbows. But I wanted it to stay like that forever, so I started taking the pills even when I didn't need to. Eventually, I couldn't stop. I was a complete addict. One day my brother noticed and he said I needed help. I ended up here 'just until I get over my problem' and it was 'just to keep me away from antidepressants'. But after two weeks I couldn't take it. I threw a fit, so they decided they should keep me here longer than planned. Eventually they decided that the longer I was in here, they more insane I got. And what did those idiots do about it? They kept me here for three fucking years, making me go mad. This place will kill you, it's in the process of killing me. Get the fuck out of here any chance you get, or you will end up like me. And I still get out every once in a while.”
Frank just stared. That was a lot of information to take in at once.
“Wow.” he choked out finally, after a long silence. “That's... something...”
Out of nowhere a bell rang. Just like a school bell, but not as loud, and not quite as fast.
Frank jumped out of his skin. “What was that?” He shrieked.
“Shit.” Gerard mumbled, frowning and biting down on his lower lip at the same time.
“What is it?” Frank insisted, clearly alarmed as he saw all the other guys in the room stand up and start walking towards one of the corridors, some walking like zombies, obediently following the crowd, some rolling on the floor screaming or sobbing.
“I hate this bit...”
“Tell me what's happening!” Frank demanded, standing up. “What are they gonna do to us?” The paranoia was building inside of him, his heart racing.
In response, Gerard rolled onto his back, swung his legs over his head, and jumped up off the couch.
He walked behind Frank, who was looking around frantically, eyes wide, and stopped. “Whatever they give to you, no matter what they say, do not, I repeat, do not swallow it. But make sure you hide it well inside your mouth, because they will check to make sure that you swallowed it.”
With that, Gerard walked off in the same direction that everybody else was gong in, and not wanting to stay there alone, Frank ran after him, still trembling like jelly.
Any criticism is welcome, I'd also appreciate it if you point out any mistakes I made! Thanx. ¦) ~KilljoyBandit
Chapter 3 - Helena
Frank had had enough of his new room after just a few minutes. There was a dresser with three drawers. One contained neatly organized clean socks and underwear, one was completely empty, so Frank guessed he could keep all his imaginary belongings there, but the contents of the top drawer actually made his jaw drop. It was filled with clothes, made from the same grey, thin material as the outfit he was wearing now. There were seven T-shirts, seven pairs of straight long trousers, seven pairs of loose shorts and two zip-up jumpers, made from a much thicker material, all of which were loose and baggy, and had the number 6 scruffily stitched onto the back.
This was a nightmare to Frank. He had no idea why, but he just couldn't stand the idea of looking just like everyone else, day in, day out, for what could possibly be the rest of his life.
He closed the dresser drawer and decided to explore the rest of his room. Opposite the dresser there was just a neatly made bed, with rounded metal pipes for legs. It had a white, soft-looking pillow and white sheets, and on top of it, lay a thick, black A5 book. As Frank flipped through it he noticed it was completely empty, so he just put it back for the time being.
Apart from that all that was in the room was a tiny barred window, just like the one in the room he'd been in before, and a double white door, with a small one way mirror, so it was a mirror to him, but a window to others.
And of course, no mental hospital room would be complete without two small security cameras in two opposite corners of the ceiling. There was no way Frank could know, but he didn't think that there was ever anything that made him quite so uncomfortable before.
He sat down on the edge of his bed, looking down at the smooth, plastic-y floor, then got up almost immediately.
He jumped as he accidentally slammed the door behind him and left the claustrophobic little cage, to try and explore a bit more.
After leaving his room, he took a right down the almost frighteningly boring-looking corridor, and came to a stop when he reached a bright, large area, with about six corridors leading out of it.
The place was full of people, guys roughly his age, sitting on chairs, playing, or trying to play, board games, talking, some were rolling on the ground.
Feeling lost and very out of place, Frank noticed a small, grey sofa in the middle of the room. It was empty, so he walked over and perched himself awkwardly on the edge.
Finding a small remote with a soft rubbery cover, he switched on the tiny TV, mounted to the TV stand with screws and bolts, and flipped through the channels. He left the news on and stared blankly at the small screen, until something that caught his attention came on.
“We all know of the biggest murderer in the world, the US Government's most wanted, the one who'd killed one person every week for nearly the past two years. We know of his incredible killing methods, and how every time he kills a new victim, he takes them out to a random cemetery in or near Belleville, New Jersey, and buries them there. And yet his identity has remained a mystery this whole time. But what many people haven't realised, is that there hasn't been a murder of this kind for over two weeks. Has the world's most wanted killer, stopped killing? And if so, why? That's it for...”
Frank's thoughts trailed off. That's horrible. How can someone do something like that...? I wonder who it is... Could it be... Those deep, green eyes, so full of hate, ran through his mind, sending shock waves around his brain, and little needles of terror, stabbing at his heart...
“Fucked up shit, ain't it?” The mysterious voice behind him made his heart skip a beat, and his vocal chords lose control. Frank let out a surprisingly high pitched squeal, and fell backwards onto the rubbery floor as the shock made his head spin.
“R'lax, pansy, just me!”
As Frank looked up, he saw the crazy, red-haired boy sat on the couch which Frank had previously been sitting on.
“My 'lil bro's in here too. His name's Mikey. He's 16. And I'm 18. I'm Gerard by the way.”
Frank, still on the floor, didn't know how to reply to that. His eyes darted wildly from Gerard's face, to the mysterious metal cuff locked around his left wrist, and back again.
“Now would be the time for you to introduce yourself. Can't you speak or summin?” Gerard noticed Frank's wild expression and added, “Chill out, kay? I don't bite.”
At that moment they both remembered what happened with Gerard and the doctors only about half an hour ago.
“Well, unless you piss me off, that is.” He announced casually, flipping through the channels on TV, his gaze almost burning a hole right through the screen.
Frank picked himself up off the ground and just stared, everything and nothing running through his mind all at once.
“Kay, lemme make it easier for ya... I'm Gerard. And you are...? Gerard asked, emphasizing the last five words of that sentence.
“Erm... uh... Fran... I mean Frank... um... yeah...” Stammered Frank, feeling like like a complete airhead.
Gerard peeled his now calm, green eyes away from the TV. “Pleased to please ya, Frannie. What'cha in here for, then?” He questioned.
Frank wasn't at all comfortable with that question, since he didn't exactly know himself. “Uhh... I don't actually... I don't remember...”
“What do you mean you don't remember?” Gerard leaned his right elbow on the back of the couch and tucked his legs in, shifting sideways to face Frank who was now sitting awkwardly next to him.
“I- I think I have amnesia. There was some kind of accident, and Paranoia, or something...” Fran trailed off.
At that moment, Frank lost his trail of thought as he saw a nurse walk by. But it wasn't the nurse who dragged him down the hallway before. This one was different. Young. Slim, with long, black, flowing hair.
Frank's heart skipped as she walked over to him, smiling warmly.
“You must be Frank, the new one, right?” She asked, melting Frank's brain and draining him of all his ability to speak properly.
“Y-y-y-yeah, me, I mean... uh, it's I, I mean me, I'm Frank.” He uttered, blushing and feeling the warmth of the blood that rushed up to his cheeks.
The nurse smiled. “I'm Helena, I'm a nurse here, as you can probably tell. It's so nice to meet you.” Her unusually bright, blue eyes held Frank's own in place, and he didn't dare break the eye contact, as if the world would explode if he did.
“Nuh... erm... nice to meet mee- you, nice to meet you too.”
Helena giggled. “I'll see you around.” And with that she turned around and disappeared around the corner.
“Dude...” Gerard's quiet, obviously creeped out voice brought Frank back down to Earth. He was sitting completely still, so still that he may as well have been a mannequin, placed there only to make Frank uncomfortable. He was leaning back slightly, his mouth hanging open slightly, his green eyes so lost and confused, and his forehead wrinkled, as if he'd just seen something that shocked him completely, and was trying to make sense of it all.
“Everything alright?” Frank asked cautiously, still slightly afraid of his new, insane friend.
Gerard decided to ignore that and ask his own question instead. “Are you by any chance schizophrenic?”
“Oh, yeah, now that I think about it, Dr. Martinez did mention something about that. Anyway, what were we talking about again?”
“Why we're in here.” Gerard reminded him. “So, you're paranoid and schizophrenic. My turn, I guess. So, mine's kinda a long story, but it's not like we have anything else to do. Basically, I had depression, so I was put on some weird antidepressant. And it was the best thing in the world, I was just such a happy person, everything was sunshine and rainbows. But I wanted it to stay like that forever, so I started taking the pills even when I didn't need to. Eventually, I couldn't stop. I was a complete addict. One day my brother noticed and he said I needed help. I ended up here 'just until I get over my problem' and it was 'just to keep me away from antidepressants'. But after two weeks I couldn't take it. I threw a fit, so they decided they should keep me here longer than planned. Eventually they decided that the longer I was in here, they more insane I got. And what did those idiots do about it? They kept me here for three fucking years, making me go mad. This place will kill you, it's in the process of killing me. Get the fuck out of here any chance you get, or you will end up like me. And I still get out every once in a while.”
Frank just stared. That was a lot of information to take in at once.
“Wow.” he choked out finally, after a long silence. “That's... something...”
Out of nowhere a bell rang. Just like a school bell, but not as loud, and not quite as fast.
Frank jumped out of his skin. “What was that?” He shrieked.
“Shit.” Gerard mumbled, frowning and biting down on his lower lip at the same time.
“What is it?” Frank insisted, clearly alarmed as he saw all the other guys in the room stand up and start walking towards one of the corridors, some walking like zombies, obediently following the crowd, some rolling on the floor screaming or sobbing.
“I hate this bit...”
“Tell me what's happening!” Frank demanded, standing up. “What are they gonna do to us?” The paranoia was building inside of him, his heart racing.
In response, Gerard rolled onto his back, swung his legs over his head, and jumped up off the couch.
He walked behind Frank, who was looking around frantically, eyes wide, and stopped. “Whatever they give to you, no matter what they say, do not, I repeat, do not swallow it. But make sure you hide it well inside your mouth, because they will check to make sure that you swallowed it.”
With that, Gerard walked off in the same direction that everybody else was gong in, and not wanting to stay there alone, Frank ran after him, still trembling like jelly.
Any criticism is welcome, I'd also appreciate it if you point out any mistakes I made! Thanx. ¦) ~KilljoyBandit
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