Small One-Shot, slight Frerard. "Don't cry, don't you dare cry. There's no use in it, you need to just face it, just face it life is a lie...
'It's a beautiful lie to believe in'
"Don't cry, don't you dare cry. There's no use in it, you need to just face it, just face it life is a lie, it's a fucking lie." his voice is gruff but light, accent burning at the back of his throat giving it a whiney quality. His words burn and pulse in my head as he lifts his right hand, cigarette balanced, deliberately carelessly, between his fingers as he brought the end to his lips to inhale, take in all the bad things and burn his insides to hell. No, he didn't care his carelessness wasn't just an act it was him, it was who he was and how he was, it was where he was and where he was going. "But its a beautiful one," he sighs out, the whips of grey cigarette smoke flowed with his voice as if demonstrating just how ugly a picture his words were actually painting.
I was numb. My head ached and was just there, my brain a useless lump of electrical impulses that seemed to have slowed as though I were in a coma. What was he saying, how could he talk like that? Didn't he understand at all. I mean the world is beautiful and it sustains life so, by extension, life is beautiful, right? I could feel my frown, hopeless and small - just a dip at the corners of my mouth. He was wrong wash he? I felt my mouth gape open and I snapped it shut as soon as my brain allowed the motion, which was far too long for my liking. I couldn't just leave that there, hanging in the air with the stench of cigarette smoke and polluted city air. Life was beautiful, it just was, and somehow I had to tell this boy how wrong he was when I couldn't bring myself to say the words outright. "How do you mean?" I find myself asking from my seat, not too far away from where he was sprawled out on the grass, in the shade of the tree I was leaning up against.
He didn't even jump, his words had been for himself, I knew he hadn't been entertaining anyone but himself with his speech but I couldn't help myself, he had been babbling nonsense for the past half hour but none of his mutterings had gotten through to me like this one had, it was weighing on me, probing inside my mind to see if I had the capacity to understand its meaning. His head turned, eyes hidden behind dark lenses but somehow I knew he wasn't really looking at me. He smiled though, well a sort of smile, it was small and lifted somewhat more on one side of his face than the other but it was real. "Death isn't a lie," he continues, seeming to have completely ignored my question, "it's just the truth, the inevitable, it's just to real for people to talk about, to think about. It's a horrible truth, awful really, but does that make it any less beautiful than the lie?"
I stare at him, curling my legs up and holding my knees to my chest with my arms. By the lie he means life, right. Geez what was wrong with this kid, no wonder he had no friends, he's mental. He still hasn't seen me, not bothered to look down from the spot on the tree where he trunk becomes branches. How could he say that? Life was beautiful, it was colourful, glowing, living, breathing... Pulsing. Death was nothing but black, absent of colour, dead and breathless, a shadow at best. How could he say, with his careless certainty, that they were both beautiful, how could he compare them so easily? "You're mental," I voiced.
His eyes came to me then, his head tilting a fraction more as he put that damned cigarette back to his waiting lips. He took a drag, savouring the way the tar flowed into him no doubt, and smiling around the evil thing. His hand flopped back down, a dull thud against the grassy floor as he blew out a steady stream of grey. "Probably," he replies, "but that doesn't change the fact that I'm right." he sighs and moves his head back so he's looking ahead of himself, staring at the leaves on the branches which are browning, crumpling and dying. "It's all a joke, it's all a big fucking joke," he stares up at the sky between the decomposing leaves on the tree branches, his smile gone but his lips slightly parted, mouth open kind of like a goldfish as he watches nothing from behind his sunglasses.
If I had been able to think properly I may have called him on the reference he'd just made but I couldn't bring myself to say he was mental again, or even to tell him he was wrong. Was he wrong? My head hurt too much and it didn't make much sense to me.. NO! It made no sense to me. Life was beautiful. Death was ugly. Everyone knew that, it was the truth not this guys nasty lies. "You're wrong," I found myself saying, my eyes closed to the scene before me. If I just stayed quiet long enough, shut off to this guys words I could forget it all, go back to being bored out of my mind with my lunch/free period combo.
I hear a snort and a loud, honking laugh. "Whatever," the guy mutters, "if you can't see it you're fucking blind." he says. This grabbed my attention and my eyes shoot open and I found myself face to face with a set of unyielding, hazel eyes. I choked on air and pushed my head back, smacking it on the bark of the tree trunk behind me. I'm trapped, I can't look away. The hazel irises are beautiful, full of swirling colour; green brown and gold, honey coloured flecks reaching out form the pupil which, in contrast is a cold, hard black. "Are you blind?" asks the voice belonging to the boy who's eyes are looking at me. I can feel his breath on my cheeks, fanning over my skin.
I just blink, stupidly, before realising he actually meant the question. "N-no i'm not blind," I stutter, uncomfortable under the gaze of he hazel eyes in front of me and the proximity of this guys body to mine. "I can see perfectly fine, thank you very much," I say through clenched teeth, anger broiling in me as I start to wish this guy had never transferred here, not been the mental loner he is and he'd never found the place that I used to feel safe and calm in the school grounds. He was ruining it here, disturbing it's beauty with his ugly words and damned cigarette smoke. He was so careless and depressing but it just made him all the more... Real.
Before my mind could catch up with my body my arms were around his neck, fingers groping in his hair as I pressed my lips fiercely to his. It was beautiful. It was life, it was alive and colourful and living, it was easy as breathing and I felt like we were glowing but it was also wrong, it was death. The colour was leaving, the breath was lost and I could feel the shadows clawing at the back of my eyes. I pulled away, taking my arms back and hugging them to my cheat, what had i done? Hazel eyes, beautiful hazel eyes were all I could see as I took everything in, the realisation of his words hitting me hard, my brain devouring the information in an instant.
"You're welcome," he says as he stands up. His pale white fingers bring his sunglasses back up to his face and he slides the lenses back into position over his eyes. He still has his cigarette and he took another drag. A faint smile was on his lips, like the first smile I'd seen him wear, crooked and light. He exhaled the grey once more and he looked down at me, the black lenses covering the startling hazel. I was glad for that. Still, I ducked my head, cheeks feeling hot as he looked at me. "What's your name?"
"Frank," I mutter, my voice low and small. "My name is Frank," I say in a stronger tone as I bring myself to look up at him, cheeks still partially pink. "Yours?" I ask, because I feel the need to continue conversation.
"Gerard," he sighs, taking another drag of his near gone cigarette, before turning his head away to look at the horizon. "Will you come to my funeral Frank?" he asked faintly. I blinked. What was he talking about, I'd only just met him properly. Sure he'd been introduced when he was new, told everyone his name and that one day they were all going to hell. I'd never spoken to him before though, he was too dark, too evil, too close to death. Suddenly I knew what he meant. It should have scared the shit out of me but, for some reason it was fine, I didn't question it, I understood completely what he was saying and what he meant by it.
"Yeah, Gerard," I say as I watch him. He starts to walk away, dropping the butt of his cigarette and treading it into the grass under the worn leather of his boot sole. He continues walking as I stare at the spot he'd just been stood, my eyes trailing behind Gerard as he continues walking, right past the students who were on late lunch and eating, talking with friends, and up to the school gate. He glances back for a moment, his light, crooked smile in place as he lifts his right hand as a goodbye. "I'll come to your funeral," I say as he turns back and walks right out of the school gates and into the road.
I'm up and on my feet in a second, running like my life depends on it, my brain having finally reasoned with me enough to try and stop this. I'm gasping for breath as I fly past everything, my vision a blur of morphed people, trees, bushes, paving and sky. There's a horn, a car horn and it's loud, desperate. I'm barely past the people having lunch as i hear it. The screeching breaks and the impact, smashing and creaking.
I come to the school gate just in time to see Gerard fall from the roof of the car to the floor, his body bloody and broken. He left a dent in the hood and there was blood on the smashed windscreen. There were screams everywhere, shouts of disbelief and gasps of shock and horror. I slowed myself to a walk and trod carefully to Gerard. He still had that damned smile of his on his face, one of the lenses of his sunglasses was shattered and pieces of the black glass had imbedded themselves into his eye and the surrounding skin. The other lens was cracked. He had blood trailing from the lowest end of his smile, dribbling down over his chin and over his neck, staining his white school shirt. His arms were at odd angles and there was a bone sticking out of his left calf. There was blood everywhere, a pool of it forming around his head.
I looked at his mutilated hazel eye. He was gone, the light was gone from him, he wasn't glowing any more but he was still beautiful. "You're right Gerard." I said, speaking to his corpse, it was easy and comfortable like he was still there even though I knew he wasn't. I crouched down to get a better look at him. People were still shrieking and asking me what the hell I was doing, there were sirens too, but none of it mattered. I leant over, brushing the hair from his forehead and placing my lips to his pale skin in a brief kiss. He was still warm. I smiled. "It's a beautiful lie," I muttered against his skin before getting up, shoving my hands in my pockets and walking away. Death was ugly yet beautiful, i learned that today. Life was a beautiful lie to believe in and Gerard was finally free from it all. I'd join him soon enough, and live in the truth, but not until I'd passed the message on.
... So what did you think?
Drop me a review or a message to let me know. Until the next time, so long. xoxo T