Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > save me (from my self destruction)

save me (from my self destruction)

by JadePatricia96 0 reviews

Gerard is miserable.He's self harming, anorexic and has nothing to live for. He feels like he has nobody to talk to, nobody that loves him. But when her best friend discovers his secret, he feels t...

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst,Romance - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way - Published: 2013-06-13 - 3256 words

'someone save me if you will, and take away all these pills. please just save me if you can, from my blasphemy in my wasteland.'
Shinedown - Save me.

I woke to the same dull ache in my stomach. Again I hadn’t eaten and I didn’t care. i laid in my bed and stared up at the ceiling, planning. Right now I’m just a blob, an insignificant figure that breezes through life without a care. in a week or so I’ll be a body in a box. I like the sound of that.
I smile to myself slightly as I pull myself to my feet and go through to the bathroom. I lean against the sink and stare at myself. I’m a fucking wreck. Grey bags hung under my eyes and my skin was like porcelain. I’ve always been pale but now I’m just white, almost grey.
My self destruct button had been pushed long ago and only now did I have the courage to finally end it.

I’ll start from the beginning, maybe then it will make sense.
I grew up happy with my little brother, Mikey. I love him with all my heart, and the only thing putting me off suicide is how much I love him.
I grew up in Bellville, New Jersey. I still live there now.
Crime was the norm here. Hate crimes, rapes, murders and burglary were just par for the course here. You get used to it.
Me and Mikey grew with a big family. Aunts, grandparents and cousins visited daily and it was a rare occurrence if we came downstairs to an empty house.
When we did it was bliss, my dad would be sat nose deep in a newspaper, sipping a strong coffee while my mum watched talk shows and laughed at the ‘who’s the father of my baby?’ episodes.
Mikey has always been the smart one. I’m the artist. I like to paint, draw and perform. Peter pan was my uprising into ‘fame’ during school. Mikey always had his nose buried in a thick book, with several others in his bag.
He’s very quiet, very introverted. A lot of the time he would just be sat up in his room with a copy of Catcher in the rye. It was quiet in the house but it was never awkward and we loved it like this.
School started good. I was peter pan, I was ‘the one who played the girls role, but kicked ass at it’
I didn’t mind it really. I kept my head down and went to my lessons.
It got bad when I started year 10. I started...experimenting. I had found some of my mums lipstick, and upon trying it I thought ‘hm, this isn’t too bad.’
the day I wore makeup to school is a day I could rip from my history and burn. Automatically I became the faggot of the year, and I mean...maybe I like guys, maybe I don’t...but who gives a fuck? It’s none of their fucking business!
Anyway, for the next year all I was to anybody was a punching bag, and a quiet one at that.
I started self harming when I was 15. Finally! I thought, something to help, something to make me feel better.
Oh how wrong I was to think it wouldn’t ruin my life.
At first it was little scratches, b
But gradually it got worse. Cuts so bad I ended up in hospital. I couldn’t go a day without locking my door and cutting into my arms like butter.
It got boring after a while, it just...wasn’t enough. I stopped, and haven’t done it again since. My arms are covered in thick purple scars now, I know they’re never going away and I’ve come to terms with that. The fact that nobody knows makes it so much harder to deal with.

I keep to myself. My bedroom is MY bedroom and nobody goes in there. If they do they receive a well deserved black eye.
I only had one friend. Everyone has their own group of friends. But I only have one, Frank.
He’s been my best friend for years, and he means everything to me but even he doesn’t know about my path of self destruction.
Instead of cutting, I stopped eating. That wasn’t so obvious...well, it is now. My hollow cheekbones and protruding ribs tell the tale. I try not to eat at all but when I have to I usually nibble on a little bread or maybe some fruit. Water is the trick. Fill up on water and you’ll be full for hours. Unfortunately, my skin and hair have turned to shit. I have the skin of a dying doll and the hair of horse hay.
I didn’t care. if I’m gonna die soon why should I look good?
Fuck. Okay. I need to get ready. I slowly peeled my clothes off before turning the shower on and stepping under the water. I just don’t have the energy for anything anymore.
I quickly washed and stepped out, wrapping a towel around my waist. I dried quickly and pulled on a (now) loose pair of black skinnies with an incredibly baggy iron maiden shirt.
I sighed as I went downstairs and smiled when I discovered an empty house. Now, to any normal teenager, and empty house is a playground to drink, smoke, blast out music and wreck the place, but instead I sat and ate a bowl of cereal (30g – 172 calories with skimmed milk,)
When the time came I dragged myself a school. A measly half a mile felt like 20 miles and when I got to school I felt as if my legs would snap and I would evaporate (oh, if only.)
Frank met me at the front gate, (as always) and I greeted him with a hug and a cigarette.
As we stood smoking I couldn’t help but notice him look me up at down.
I came at him with a smart comment, “like what you see?”
he sighed, letting a cloud of smoke escape his lungs. “you’re getting too skinny gee.” He mumbled. I looked down, feeling ashamed. No I’m not. I’m not skinny enough. I’m too fat. I won’t eat, don’t eat. I’ve already eaten. I don’t have to eat for the rest of the day. It will kill me...that’s what I want
“I’m fine.” I lied. Thankfully, today is a cold day. Thick fog hung low and it rained on and off. My long sleeves were not noticed. I wrapped my arms around myself when I discarded of my cigarette, shivering in the cold.
“it’s not that cold.” Frank mocked, I smiled slightly as I watched his cigarette fly when he flicked it.
First lesson, English. Not so bad. I could bury my nose in my book and be happy because nobody would talk to (apart from frank, who regularly copied my answers. I didn’t mind, what are friends for?)

School went slow, and of course, the uncontrollable urge to cut the fuck out of my legs was as strong as ever. Somehow I managed to ignore it, simply by plugging in my headphones and blasting music so loud I felt as if my ears would bleed. It felt amazing.
I jumped when I felt a hand on my back and spun around ready to punch the stranger, but let my fist fall when I saw franks soft face smiling at me.
“Don’t fucking do that to me!” I hissed when I turned around and continued walking. Frank caught up and pouted as he walked beside me, his little legs struggling to keep up with my fast pace.
“Come on gee, I was only kidding.” He mumbled. I didn’t reply. I had nothing to say. Eventually I found myself back outside my house.
“Ugh, mum’s still out.” I moaned as I headed to the door.
“Can I stay for a little? My mum is at work...i hate being home alone.”
Was the word privacy forbidden in this bum-fuck town?
“sure.” I shrugged. I unlocked the door and went in, throwing my keys on the counter and quickly went for the coffee machine, flicking it on and sparking up, throwing frank one.
He caught it and lit it and for a few minutes we stood in silence, the only sound was our heavy sighs as we exhaled.
“I’m gonna go get changed...make some coffee?” I requested, he nodded slightly as he breezed past me and I headed upstairs. I quickly started to change but couldn’t help catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Fuck. I look awful. I sighed as I looked at my dying body, the pink scars scattered over my arms and chest made me realize how fucking ugly I really am.
I jumped at the sound of glass shattering almost right next to me and I turned to see frank in the door way. I glared at him for a second before he diverted his eyes.
“ you want sugar?” he stuttered.
He walked away slowly and I took great pleasure in slamming my bedroom door. Hopefully making him aware that I was angry. He had invaded my privacy, and to make it worse, he now knows how fucked up I am.
I sighed as I pulled on a HUGE pair of jogging bottoms, a plain black shirt and a thick hoodie. It’s fucking freezing.
I made my way back downstairs slowly and leant in the doorway of the kitchen. Frank was stood with his back to me stirring coffee.
“Yours is on the coffee table” he mumbled, I went through to the living room to see just that. A steaming mug of coffee sat near the edge. I sat down slowly and started sipping it. Waiting for him to come through and start shouting.
Frank is my best friend, and I love him and trust him more than anyone in the world (apart from Mikey, of course) but fuck, does he know how to grill me. He knows what to say to make me feel bad. There was no way I could say no to him and if I promised him something I could never break it.
Now, he knows about my self harm and anorexia and it terrified me. He came through eventually and sat beside me in silence. I said nothing, biting my lip anxiously. I sparked up another cig. (oh yeah. I’ve been smoking a lot recently).
I stared down as I flicked the ash into an ashtray.
Finally, the silence was broken.
“why?” he mumbled. I thought for a the fuck am I supposed to answer that?
I can’t say ‘because I don’t want to live’ because then we would go through the whole charade of ‘promise me you won’t kill yourself’ and that means I can’t.
“Just...did.” I mumbled, chewing my thumb and staring at the floor.
“Gee...please talk to me. I’ve known for months that something has been going on...i just...couldn’t figure out what.” He sighed. I felt disgusting, ashamed. I felt like I had let him down and it hurt, a lot.
I exhaled slowly. Here goes.
“Have you ever just felt like you can’t live? Every day I get up, go to school, come home and go to bed. The same fucking routine every day. I’ve got nothing to live for. People seem to think I’m amazing because I know how to paint. I’s not fucking rocket science.’ I stopped to smoke more of my cigarette before finally stubbing it out.
‘there comes a time where you just...give up. I gave up years ago. Nobody notices me. I just...waking up in the morning is the worst thing, and it fucking hurts because every night I fall asleep praying not to wake up.’
I stopped, sighing slightly, I didn’t really know what else to say.
‘I gotta go.’ Frank mumbled. I looked at him and I knew my eyes were begging him not to go. He stood up and swung his bag over his shoulder, leaving without so much as a goodbye.
I sighed slightly and went upstairs. Fuck this. It’s not or never.
I crouched down and reached under my bed. I knew exactly what I was doing. I grabbed the litre bottle of vodka, and a small red box. This has been hidden for nearly a year and it felt good finally blowing the dust off. The small box contains a razorblade and sleeping pills.
I smiled slightly as I put the box and bottle in my bag. I have to write a letter, to mikey and frank. I sat down with my notepad and the words flowed freely.

I’m sorry you found out this way. This isn’t how I wanted things to end. I wanted to end my life with a clear mind but now all I can think about if how much you hate me, and it’s killing me...literally.
You’re my best friend. I love you and I can’t thank you enough for everything you have done for me. I’ve been planning this for a while and I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you but I just...can’t.
You and Mikey are the only people keeping me around. Mikey doesn’t talk to me and now you hate I really have nothing to live for.
I’m sorry I’ve been such a shit friend. I know I have. I’m so sorry.
There was nothing you could do to help life if just all round fucked up. I know you’re going to want to stop me, and you can if you want...i’m not going to tell you where I’m going. You’ll know where to look if you think hard enough.
I can’t really think of what to say now so I guess I’ll stop.
I’m sorry, frank.

I sighed slightly as I folded the paper and put it in an envelope, writing franks name on the front.
I wiped the tears from my eyes as I set it aside and started on mikeys letter.

My beautiful baby brother, I love you so much. Please never think that what I’ve done is your fault. I’m a mess. I have been for a long time.
I’m so proud of you, mikey. You’re gonna make mum and dad proud one day, keep your head up and shine as bright as I know you can.
I love you.

At this point I was sobbing. I folded it and put it in an envelope and put it on top of franks as I put my head down on the desk and cried. No, I’m not changing my mind. I’m just sad.
I wiped my face and straightened my clothes out as I grabbed my bag, hanging it off my shoulder as I went downstairs. I left the envelope on the counter. Knowing Mikey would find it when he went to the coffee machine. I looked around a little and smiled, mumbling ‘bye guys’ before I left.
It was dark and the cold was bitter when I stepped outside. I put my hood up and crossed my arms as I walked towards frank. It took only a few minutes for me to get there and when I looked up I saw only one light on in the house – his bedroom.
I sighed slightly; I walked up the path and stopped at the door. I contemplated knocking, trying to talk to him but it was no use. I slid the envelope through the letter box making sure it made a loud noise when it closed and walked away quickly.
I knew where I was going. My favourite place in the whole world. Only a few minutes away there’s a field, a huge field. And it’s my field, why? Because years ago I build I hidey hole. Exactly in the middle of the field there’s a wooden door (covered in grass and branches, to hide it...obviously) open it up and there’s a ladder. It’s only a little place but it’s mine, it’s the only place I can go to just get away and be safe. I found the place. Exactly 53 paces from the gate. I crouched down and brushed the leaves from the door and pulled it open, climbing down slowly and letting the door fall closed. It was only small but it was very...unique. shelves were built that held up comic books and alcohol bottles, (Empty, of course) I sat on a small stood I’d placed in the corner and lit a cigarette, I reached to my side and grabbed a torch, turning it on and shining it on the shelf as I lit over 10 candles carefully. The place was well lit afterwards and I smiled.
I pulled the bottle out of my bag, smiling as I opened it and took a mouthful. It burned the back of my throat but I didn’t mind. I knew this would end painfully.
I sighed as I pulled the blade out. Ahh, my best friend. I played with it as I smiled. I was somewhat sad that this is the end but I knew this is how it had to happen.
Not yet.
I grabbed the bottle of pills. I need to take these first. I opened the cap slowly and poured them out into my hand. The bottle was nearly empty now apart from maybe 4 or 5. I took a deep breath in and threw them into my mouth, nearly gagging when I felt them hit the back of my through. I took a big gulp of the vodka, and another, and another.
My stomach turned. I fucking hate vodka. I sighed a sigh of relief when I had swallowed them all and I sat in silence waiting for them to take effect. All these thoughts were rushing through my head. What time is it? Has Frank seen the letter? Does he care? What if I don’t have enough pills?
It took a few minutes but sure enough my head felt as if it would burst and my stomach felt as if it was ripping in half. I groaned in pain slightly, not much...only slightly. I drank more vodka, and more, and more.
Finally the time came. I clumsily picked up the blade and smiled as I brushed it up and down my arm. The cool steel against my skin felt amazing and I smiled as I pushed down onto my arm and pulled across, laughing slightly when the blood started flowing.
I smiled as I started losing control of my body and I crouched on the floor, spitting.
I groaned when my stomach sent agony through my whole body and I laid on my side, clutching my stomach. This is it. This is the end. Peace, at last. I smiled and closed my eyes.

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