"The absence of life brings an unnatural silver to his eyes, and through them he watches his older brother below. To Mikey, Gerard is like a constant movie that will never end, each scene far more...
His brother, Gerard, is sitting in the lush green grass that covers the whole area between the fences.
A light breeze blows over him, making his hair fly out behind him slightly and he closes his eyes, savouring the refreshing feeling. The sun beams lightly down onto his back,
a black hoodie, that absorbs the heat.
It is the 5th of May -- a beautiful spring day, and Gerard's basking in the cool atmosphere. He's picking at the daisies he's surrounded by -- one flower for every day his younger brother
had been stolen away.
He is not crying, but humming a simple tune. Perhaps one of those songs he had recently heard on the radio, like one of those enjoyable pop songs that nestle in your head and refuse
to budge for weeks.
Although it's been one year today, Gerard's not as mournful as he thought he would feel. On the one hand, Mikey was his angel. Nothing could seperate the two brothers -- between them such
a bond was shared that was stronger than words could ever express.
On the other hand, Mikey's not suffering anymore. Seeing someone you love deteriorate in front of your very eyes in a hospital bed is enough to break your emotions so hard, never mind having
to imagine their pain and suffering. Before he died, poor Mikey was disease ridden, and felt hellbound to the sterile white sheets that surrounded him.
Hours pass, and Mikey still sits in the tree, flaccid as ever. He's whistling his favourite tune from his childhood. The absence of life brings an unnatural silver to his eyes, and through them he watches
his older brother below. To Mikey, Gerard is like a constant movie that will never end, each scene far more interesting and emotional than the next.
Gerard freezes -- as he hears his name being carried by the wind, he's somewhat startled. After a few seconds, he becomes weary and goes back to picking the daisies.
------------------------------------------------------------------------ That night ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gerard climbs into his heavily-blanketed, comfy bed and allows himself to sink into the warmth of his mattress. His pillows are huge marshmellows that drift him off into a wonderful world of
dreams and fluffy clouds.
A few hours later, when Mikey is sure everyone is asleep, he floats over towards his older brother's bedroom. A trail of white smoke behind him is something that comes with the natural "ghost" look
he has acquired.
Making his way down the silent and dark hallway, he stops in front of his mother's room. She is breathing softly, remaining untroubled by her dead son's movements -- quieter than the deepest silence.
"I love you, mom."
She turns over, the darkness consuming her entire face now. After planting a cold kiss on her warm cheek from his lifeless, thin lips, Mikey drifts into Gerard's room. He's snoring softly, and moving about
regularly in his sleep. Mikey never did understand that mysterious boy's strange sleeping patterns, but he is caught off-guard when he hears a distant whimper from Gerard.
"Mikey! Mikey! I want Mikey!"
Curious, he sits on the end of the lovely warm bed, and Gerard stays still. Their noses mere millimetres apart, Mikey leans down to whisper in the boy's ear.
"I'm here Gerard. It's okay now." He strokes his brothers cheek with a cold hand of death, and slowly, Gerard wakes. A confused expression chisels his perfect face.
"Gee, you look so much prettier when you smile," Mikey laughs softly, and runs a white finger along his brother's cheek.
"Gerard, it's me."
Silence floods the room, before he speaks again.
"You can't be Mikey, my brother died exactly a year ago."
"Gerard, open your eyes! Look at what you see. Look in my eyes. Don't tell me that I'm not Mikey-- hell, Gerard, I'm still the same!"
A single drop of water falls down the older boy's cheek, suspicion beginning to fade into realisation at the sight before him.
"Mikey, it's you... How did you get here?"
"Well, I figured that after I'd gone you'd want to see me again, so I asked God to turn me into an angel. I don't have wings or anything-- but... but I can fly."
Gerard is intrigued by Mikey's words.
"Show me, Mikey. Can you take me flying?"
"I don't think so. There's only so much I can carry - I'm pretty much in the same state as I was when I went into hospital that first time"
"So why did you go, Mikey? Why did you leave me?"
"I had to, Gerard. My body was holding on by one string."
"So you left me, and everyone else to suffer!"
"Gerard, I had no other choice! I was dying tragically young, and it felt like I was holding on for everyone else. I had to die, Gerard! I had to do it for myself,"
By now, both of the Way brothers are in hysterics, tears staining identical faces, dead and alive. Now Gerard was growing angry, surely he was not being irrational for
wanting his little brother to live?
"...every day was a nightmare for me. At first, the pain was kept to a minimum, but near the end, just to try and move would nearly kill me. I had to do it, Gerard."
The older boy reaches out to try and touch the ghostly white figure before him, and upon contact he feels the freezing cold from the angel like a lake of midnight. There is a white aura glowing
round him that contrasts perfectly with the moonlight that half-fills Gerard's room.
"I have to go now.." Mikey looks away from his brother, before standing up. A rough kiss is planted on Gerard's lips, a strange feeling to him that felt like being dipped in
an ice lake when you least expected. The contact is electrical, and seemed to vanish far too soon.
"No! Mikey, you can't go!"
"I have to, Gerard. I have to go. It wouldn't be right for me to stay, and I wouldn't be physically able to do that. Here, Gee,"
Mikey pulls out of his jeans pocket a small ring.
"Wear this as a gift from me. I'll always remember you, Gerard, I'll always love you. Goodbye, and tell mom I love her."
"No! Mikey! Wait!" Gerard despaired, groping frantically for the air in front of him as the form of his deceased younger brother's ghost faded into the darkness.
Micheal James Way was my angel. I guess heaven must have been missing an angel, so they took mine instead.