Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Without You Is How I Dissappear
She paced angrily back and forth within her tiny bathroom. Having taken a few of the pills hidden in her underwear drawer and with a half-full bottle of cheap vodka in hand, the room was beginning to hazily tilt beneath her feet. She leaned heavily on the sink and stared into the mirror. The girl reflected back at her was a scary sight. Her lip was swollen and split down the middle and the tender area beneath her right eye was already turning a sickening purple. She knew there would be a nasty bruise on her ribs too. The bruises from last time had just started healing….
Barbara strolled down the side walk, a slight smile playing across her lips. Gerard was an awesome guy, and totally cute too. There was something about his messy black hair and ghostly complexion that actually turned her on. Also, she couldn’t help but finding his initial insecurity adorable. She was vaguely wondering why she had never talked to him before now, when she saw the boy sitting on her front steps. Oh, that’s why. Jim.
“Shit.” She muttered under her breath.
“Where the hell have you been?” The tall, muscular boy shouted as he stood.
“None of your damn business.” Barbara huffed. “I’m not in the mood to talk to you, Jim. So get off my doorstep and go home!”
Jim bowed his chest up in anger, and stepped closer to her. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that! Tell me where you were!”
Barbara glared at him silently and made an effort to sidestep him, but he grabbed her by her coat and shoved her hard. She stumbled sideways and fell down, grunting as her body connected with the concrete.
“You were out whoring around, I’ll bet!” He growled furiously, “Who were you with, Whore? Who have you been fucking behind my back?”
“No one!” She yelled, only to receive a swift kick in the side. She doubled over and gasped, clutching at her ribcage. “Fuck you, Jim! I’ve had enough of this bullshit!” She groaned through clenched teeth.
She didn’t see the fury flash in the boy’s eyes, or the veins bulging in the sides of his neck. She only felt the sharp pain that shot through her as his fist connected with her face. Once. Twice. Then his rough fingers were entwined in her hair and he violently jerked her head around to look into her eyes. Reluctant tears were streaming down her face, but she set her jaw as menacingly as she could.
“Last chance to tell me where you were.” He hissed, his face an inch from her own. She could smell the liquor on his breath and she knew this wasn’t a fight she would win.
“I was pissed so I went for a long walk.” She lied.
He thought this over for a long moment, as if determining whether it was a sufficient answer. Finally, he reared back and slapped her hard. She cried out slightly, her cheek stinging and the rest of her face aching terribly.
“That’s for running off somewhere without me knowing.” He informed her as if it was a just punishment for her misbehavior. He rose over her and spit in disgust before turning and stalking back down the street.
She lay there for a few moments, attempting to catch her breath, then slowly hoisted herself off the ground. She staggered up the stairs and fumbled with the lock on the door. She squinted into the dark kitchen, and felt for the light switch. It was eerily quiet within the house, as usual. She made sure to bolt the door securely, just in case. A small note was stuck to the refrigerator. Wiping the blood from her lip, she pulled off the slip of paper and read it.
Barbara,
I’m out with Bill again. Won’t be home until very late. If you’re not home when I get back I’ll ground you, or something. There’s leftovers in the fridge or you can order take-out. Wash the dishes and take out the trash, please. I also forgot to do your laundry. Sorry. See you tomorrow.
Love,
Mom
Barbara rolled her eyes, crumpling the paper in her hand and flung it to the floor. Typical. Her mother was always with Bill, her sleezy good-for-nothing boyfriend, whom Barbara absolutely despised. She had never been much of a mother, but since she had met Bill she had become more and more of a pitiful excuse. At least she wouldn’t have to explain the cuts on her face for a while. However, she hated being left to deal with these situations alone. She was hurt and scared.
Barbara stormed up the stairs to her room, her mind swimming with dark, hateful thoughts. She immediately reached under her bed and fished out her savior. Alcohol. When combined with strong pain killers and loud, angry music, it was the perfect remedy for nights like this.
She turned the bottle up and felt the clear, bitter liquid burn its way down her throat. The world was quickly fading into one big blur of color, the way she preferred it to be. She steeled herself, then lifted the bottle back to her lips and chugged the remains, her head felt like it was on fire. Jim’s face appeared in her mind again.
“AHHHHHHH!” She shrieked, and angrily swung the empty bottle. It crashed against the shower, spraying shards of broken glass all over the floor. Her head was reeling and she slumped against the wall, slowly sinking to her knees. Slivers of the broken bottle crunched beneath her weight, but she was too numb now to feel them embedding themselves in her skin. She leaned against the toilet as the world around her spun at a dizzying pace. The last thing she saw before her unfocused eyes rolled back into her head, was the deep crimson blur that was spreading around her on the tile floor.
Barbara strolled down the side walk, a slight smile playing across her lips. Gerard was an awesome guy, and totally cute too. There was something about his messy black hair and ghostly complexion that actually turned her on. Also, she couldn’t help but finding his initial insecurity adorable. She was vaguely wondering why she had never talked to him before now, when she saw the boy sitting on her front steps. Oh, that’s why. Jim.
“Shit.” She muttered under her breath.
“Where the hell have you been?” The tall, muscular boy shouted as he stood.
“None of your damn business.” Barbara huffed. “I’m not in the mood to talk to you, Jim. So get off my doorstep and go home!”
Jim bowed his chest up in anger, and stepped closer to her. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that! Tell me where you were!”
Barbara glared at him silently and made an effort to sidestep him, but he grabbed her by her coat and shoved her hard. She stumbled sideways and fell down, grunting as her body connected with the concrete.
“You were out whoring around, I’ll bet!” He growled furiously, “Who were you with, Whore? Who have you been fucking behind my back?”
“No one!” She yelled, only to receive a swift kick in the side. She doubled over and gasped, clutching at her ribcage. “Fuck you, Jim! I’ve had enough of this bullshit!” She groaned through clenched teeth.
She didn’t see the fury flash in the boy’s eyes, or the veins bulging in the sides of his neck. She only felt the sharp pain that shot through her as his fist connected with her face. Once. Twice. Then his rough fingers were entwined in her hair and he violently jerked her head around to look into her eyes. Reluctant tears were streaming down her face, but she set her jaw as menacingly as she could.
“Last chance to tell me where you were.” He hissed, his face an inch from her own. She could smell the liquor on his breath and she knew this wasn’t a fight she would win.
“I was pissed so I went for a long walk.” She lied.
He thought this over for a long moment, as if determining whether it was a sufficient answer. Finally, he reared back and slapped her hard. She cried out slightly, her cheek stinging and the rest of her face aching terribly.
“That’s for running off somewhere without me knowing.” He informed her as if it was a just punishment for her misbehavior. He rose over her and spit in disgust before turning and stalking back down the street.
She lay there for a few moments, attempting to catch her breath, then slowly hoisted herself off the ground. She staggered up the stairs and fumbled with the lock on the door. She squinted into the dark kitchen, and felt for the light switch. It was eerily quiet within the house, as usual. She made sure to bolt the door securely, just in case. A small note was stuck to the refrigerator. Wiping the blood from her lip, she pulled off the slip of paper and read it.
Barbara,
I’m out with Bill again. Won’t be home until very late. If you’re not home when I get back I’ll ground you, or something. There’s leftovers in the fridge or you can order take-out. Wash the dishes and take out the trash, please. I also forgot to do your laundry. Sorry. See you tomorrow.
Love,
Mom
Barbara rolled her eyes, crumpling the paper in her hand and flung it to the floor. Typical. Her mother was always with Bill, her sleezy good-for-nothing boyfriend, whom Barbara absolutely despised. She had never been much of a mother, but since she had met Bill she had become more and more of a pitiful excuse. At least she wouldn’t have to explain the cuts on her face for a while. However, she hated being left to deal with these situations alone. She was hurt and scared.
Barbara stormed up the stairs to her room, her mind swimming with dark, hateful thoughts. She immediately reached under her bed and fished out her savior. Alcohol. When combined with strong pain killers and loud, angry music, it was the perfect remedy for nights like this.
She turned the bottle up and felt the clear, bitter liquid burn its way down her throat. The world was quickly fading into one big blur of color, the way she preferred it to be. She steeled herself, then lifted the bottle back to her lips and chugged the remains, her head felt like it was on fire. Jim’s face appeared in her mind again.
“AHHHHHHH!” She shrieked, and angrily swung the empty bottle. It crashed against the shower, spraying shards of broken glass all over the floor. Her head was reeling and she slumped against the wall, slowly sinking to her knees. Slivers of the broken bottle crunched beneath her weight, but she was too numb now to feel them embedding themselves in her skin. She leaned against the toilet as the world around her spun at a dizzying pace. The last thing she saw before her unfocused eyes rolled back into her head, was the deep crimson blur that was spreading around her on the tile floor.
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