Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > the fact of the matter it that is just a matter of time
Chapter 23
It had been some time since Ficwad broke down, I was meaning to upload this as soon as I wrote it (yesterday 'round 3) but Ficwad wouldn't let me. So sorry about that. Enjoy!
Only some more days before Christmas time… Gerard thought, mortified. He hated that stupid holiday. Everyone was all merry and joyful. It was sickening. And then the presents came and he got what he wanted and he felt guilty for accepting the presents presented to him when he had been so un-christmas-y. This happened every year, and the remorse of it all never went away. He didn’t know what was worst, to feel like an ungrateful brat or to keep receiving praises for something he hadn’t done, something he didn’t really believe in. He sighed, pushing all of the merry thoughts away from him and stood up from his messy bed. His mom hadn’t bothered cleaning it up the past week; she had been too busy in the Christmas preparations.
Gerard had been avoiding every other place in his house that wasn’t his room a.k.a. the basement, because everything else was red and green, with peppermint smell, and bells and angels and stars and glitter. It was the older Way’s extravaganza. It had even rubbed on Elena, his grandma, and the only thing she sang were Christmas carols. Mikey? He liked this holiday but he didn’t get too happy about it either. He didn’t put on a sour face every time someone mentioned Christmas-related topics and he didn’t live his life seclusion during the holiday so he mustn’t really hate it, either.
Mom had been really bad these past days, doctors were not really coming her way now: only nurses from time to time. This was a bad sign; they were giving up on her. Well, considering the fact most people said she would die I guess they weren’t giving up on her, just facing reality, keeping their promises.
But I didn’t. No one in my family had died, like really close to me, so I had never gone to a funeral, let alone plan one. If my mom died I was alone. Sure, I had auntie and Dad but they didn’t know me in the way mom did, they didn’t see me grow and mature and all of that ghey stuff. Even if she sometimes didn’t acknowledge it, I was sure she remembered those things from time to time and those were the times when she was smiling and when she decided to talk to me without screaming and going hysterical.
And then, my line of thought was broken. There it was: the so dreaded long beep instead of the constant beeping that hammered my head. The sign that my mother’s life was now over. I searched her face looking for pain or anger or peace but it was sphinx-like, inscrutable. If she was able to feel something before she died, I couldn’t tell. I quickly pressed the nurse button obnoxiously, trying to claim the whole nurse’s staff’s attention. Three nurses came rushing in and did their procedures, pushing me out of the room.
“Time of death: 07:25” One muttered as she walked out of the room. I heard steps behind me that had suddenly stopped. I turned around to see Auntie with a box of pancakes from some pancake restaurant in the way and saw how she dropped the box so she could gain balance using the wall as balance. For a split second I felt her gaze upon me and then to the pancakes on the box and I rushed to catch it. Surprisingly enough, I was successful.
“I can’t believe that” Auntie muttered, and I wasn’t sure if it was about the pancakes or about mom. Probably mom.
To play it save I said, “Me neither” Which was a pretty sincere reply to both questions. Auntie went to my side and whipped away the tears I hadn’t realized were falling. When she did that I understood that my whole body was shaking violently and that I felt extremely cold to her arms since she flinched when she touched me. I made myself as little as I could and let her cradle me. I felt the non-stopping flow of tears and how they soaked her shirt.
“I’m sorry” I took my arms away from her and sat on the floor. Dizziness was driving me nuts, too. She sighed as a nurse came in and asked her something in a whisper. Auntie nodded and then threw me an apprehensive look,
“I’ll call Cindy to pick you up so you can rest at home and have pancakes” She stated. I didn’t say anything and she took that as an agreement. Cindy was Auntie’s best friend. I didn’t have anything against her but I think she wore a little too much makeup for a 58-year old. Let’s just say Nanny Fine’s mother (I think her name’s Silvia) looks natural compared to her.
I waited in the parking lot for Cindy to come for me. A red SUV parked a few minutes afterward and I carried my heavy self plus the pancake box towards the back seat (Cindy said people under 28 shouldn’t be allowed on the front. More like she was afraid I’d want to changer her romantic station to a rock-punk one. That was the argument she and Auntie had all the time: radio stations). So I sat on the back, lying on my side and carefully placing the pancake box on the floor.
“My most sincere condolences” She said quietly.
I nodded at first and then recalled she probably couldn’t see me.
“Thanks” I muttered and continued to stare into nothingness. My phone vibrated against my butt and I took it out slowly.
“I’m so sorry sweetie…” My dad whispered sincerely from the other end of the line.
“It’s okay…”I whispered back in what I thought was a soothing voice.
“Do you want to come home? I don’t think you want to be alone there…”
“I’m not /alone/” I stated
“Well, if you change your mind…” He trailed off.
“I know”
“Grandpa wants to speak to you, hold on,” He passed the phone to grandpa and we talked for about three minutes before hanging up.
“We’re here” Cindy announced and I took the pancake box instantly. She had parked and was about to exit the car when I spoke harshly,
“Are you going upstairs?”
“Unless you don’t want me to”
“I’d rather be alone, thank you.”
She had a hurt expression and sat on her car, closing the door behind her. I sighed, “Really, thank you. I just need to…”
She understood what I meant and nodded, “My dad died a few years ago, too” She said and the engine purred. I slid out of the car focusing on not falling.
I passed the rest of the day in a non-stopping lethargy. I ate the whole box of pancakes just to have something to do when I came home and then slept and just laid somewhere letting my thoughts run away from my body and leaving an empty carcass behind. That was how I felt: like an empty carcass and nothing about it made me feel bad. In fact, I didn’t
It had been some time since Ficwad broke down, I was meaning to upload this as soon as I wrote it (yesterday 'round 3) but Ficwad wouldn't let me. So sorry about that. Enjoy!
Only some more days before Christmas time… Gerard thought, mortified. He hated that stupid holiday. Everyone was all merry and joyful. It was sickening. And then the presents came and he got what he wanted and he felt guilty for accepting the presents presented to him when he had been so un-christmas-y. This happened every year, and the remorse of it all never went away. He didn’t know what was worst, to feel like an ungrateful brat or to keep receiving praises for something he hadn’t done, something he didn’t really believe in. He sighed, pushing all of the merry thoughts away from him and stood up from his messy bed. His mom hadn’t bothered cleaning it up the past week; she had been too busy in the Christmas preparations.
Gerard had been avoiding every other place in his house that wasn’t his room a.k.a. the basement, because everything else was red and green, with peppermint smell, and bells and angels and stars and glitter. It was the older Way’s extravaganza. It had even rubbed on Elena, his grandma, and the only thing she sang were Christmas carols. Mikey? He liked this holiday but he didn’t get too happy about it either. He didn’t put on a sour face every time someone mentioned Christmas-related topics and he didn’t live his life seclusion during the holiday so he mustn’t really hate it, either.
Mom had been really bad these past days, doctors were not really coming her way now: only nurses from time to time. This was a bad sign; they were giving up on her. Well, considering the fact most people said she would die I guess they weren’t giving up on her, just facing reality, keeping their promises.
But I didn’t. No one in my family had died, like really close to me, so I had never gone to a funeral, let alone plan one. If my mom died I was alone. Sure, I had auntie and Dad but they didn’t know me in the way mom did, they didn’t see me grow and mature and all of that ghey stuff. Even if she sometimes didn’t acknowledge it, I was sure she remembered those things from time to time and those were the times when she was smiling and when she decided to talk to me without screaming and going hysterical.
And then, my line of thought was broken. There it was: the so dreaded long beep instead of the constant beeping that hammered my head. The sign that my mother’s life was now over. I searched her face looking for pain or anger or peace but it was sphinx-like, inscrutable. If she was able to feel something before she died, I couldn’t tell. I quickly pressed the nurse button obnoxiously, trying to claim the whole nurse’s staff’s attention. Three nurses came rushing in and did their procedures, pushing me out of the room.
“Time of death: 07:25” One muttered as she walked out of the room. I heard steps behind me that had suddenly stopped. I turned around to see Auntie with a box of pancakes from some pancake restaurant in the way and saw how she dropped the box so she could gain balance using the wall as balance. For a split second I felt her gaze upon me and then to the pancakes on the box and I rushed to catch it. Surprisingly enough, I was successful.
“I can’t believe that” Auntie muttered, and I wasn’t sure if it was about the pancakes or about mom. Probably mom.
To play it save I said, “Me neither” Which was a pretty sincere reply to both questions. Auntie went to my side and whipped away the tears I hadn’t realized were falling. When she did that I understood that my whole body was shaking violently and that I felt extremely cold to her arms since she flinched when she touched me. I made myself as little as I could and let her cradle me. I felt the non-stopping flow of tears and how they soaked her shirt.
“I’m sorry” I took my arms away from her and sat on the floor. Dizziness was driving me nuts, too. She sighed as a nurse came in and asked her something in a whisper. Auntie nodded and then threw me an apprehensive look,
“I’ll call Cindy to pick you up so you can rest at home and have pancakes” She stated. I didn’t say anything and she took that as an agreement. Cindy was Auntie’s best friend. I didn’t have anything against her but I think she wore a little too much makeup for a 58-year old. Let’s just say Nanny Fine’s mother (I think her name’s Silvia) looks natural compared to her.
I waited in the parking lot for Cindy to come for me. A red SUV parked a few minutes afterward and I carried my heavy self plus the pancake box towards the back seat (Cindy said people under 28 shouldn’t be allowed on the front. More like she was afraid I’d want to changer her romantic station to a rock-punk one. That was the argument she and Auntie had all the time: radio stations). So I sat on the back, lying on my side and carefully placing the pancake box on the floor.
“My most sincere condolences” She said quietly.
I nodded at first and then recalled she probably couldn’t see me.
“Thanks” I muttered and continued to stare into nothingness. My phone vibrated against my butt and I took it out slowly.
“I’m so sorry sweetie…” My dad whispered sincerely from the other end of the line.
“It’s okay…”I whispered back in what I thought was a soothing voice.
“Do you want to come home? I don’t think you want to be alone there…”
“I’m not /alone/” I stated
“Well, if you change your mind…” He trailed off.
“I know”
“Grandpa wants to speak to you, hold on,” He passed the phone to grandpa and we talked for about three minutes before hanging up.
“We’re here” Cindy announced and I took the pancake box instantly. She had parked and was about to exit the car when I spoke harshly,
“Are you going upstairs?”
“Unless you don’t want me to”
“I’d rather be alone, thank you.”
She had a hurt expression and sat on her car, closing the door behind her. I sighed, “Really, thank you. I just need to…”
She understood what I meant and nodded, “My dad died a few years ago, too” She said and the engine purred. I slid out of the car focusing on not falling.
I passed the rest of the day in a non-stopping lethargy. I ate the whole box of pancakes just to have something to do when I came home and then slept and just laid somewhere letting my thoughts run away from my body and leaving an empty carcass behind. That was how I felt: like an empty carcass and nothing about it made me feel bad. In fact, I didn’t
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