Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > A Million Sunsets, One Last Sunrise.
Chapter Sixteen: Pain Relief
~GERARD’S P.O.V~
I felt there gazes upon my back, as I walked towards the familiar hallway.
It amazed me, that I could even walk in the condition I was in.
It amazed me, that I- Just then had said those very words to my brother.
‘No Mikey- You are no brother of mine’
A simple sentence.
Yet so powerful.
Yet so true.
I to walk.
One foot in front of the other, I reminded myself.
I took a right, slowly coming to a stop at the edge of a dark staircase.
Forgotten this place was.
Abandoned, just like me.
I sighted—
“So many memories..” I whispered to myself.
I took a deep breath, taking each step one at a time, until finally a black door awaited me. I reached out, touching the cold door knob, turning it slowly.
Click.
I sighted deeply once more, push the door open.
And there, in the split second--
I had been reminded of my former, human life.
Wasted away in this very room.
The walls painted black, barley visible as Comic strips, and single drawing cover every inch, of every wall.
I grinned, scanning my artwork.
Zombies, Ghosts.. Vampires.
That’s all I had ever thought about when I was a kid.
I was trapped in my own fantasy.
I had my artwork, and my music.
And that was it.
I took a step inside, swinging the door shut.
I gazed around--
A small bed sat lifeless in the corner, its black sheets scattered and bed unmade.
Across for it sat my sketching table, a long oak wooden table 1 meter long, covered in scattered papers and broken caracole, and wood stained with pant splatters of different sorts.
Beside my sketching table sat my dresser, a long oval mirror attached to 4 draws, clothes as such tossed onto it—Forgotten and lost.
And in the corner, sat a dusty black guitar case.
I smiled.
“Hello old friend.” I muttered, walking towards it.
I placed the guitar case onto my bed, blowing the dust away. I ran my fingers across the guitar, clicking it open, I pulled open the top of the hard case, smiling.
There lay my black Eric Clapton Stratocaster, in perfect condition.
I had only used it once or twice in my life.
Long ago, on my 13th birthday.
I had begged and begged for this guitar.
After month’s of pledging, I had finally given up.
It was never going to be mine, I would never have that beautiful guitar.
Or so it seemed-
On my 13th birthday I awoke, and there it stood staring at me.
I had never felt such happiness.
Until the day my father took me to my first lesson.
I was dreadful, I couldn’t pluck one little string without hitting the other.
My father had assured me, I would get better--
Until my actually guitar teacher had spoken to my father.
’it’s a waste of money’ He had said. ‘Some have the talent, and some don’t.’
The tears came as I ran my fingers down the middle string.
‘Frankie would love this guitar’ I thought to myself.
The warm liquid escaped my eyes, drizzling down my cheek.
“Frankie..” I whispered, coughing lightly.
I walked towards my old dressed, observing my reflection.
I practically looked dead-
My eye’s were red and sore, and stained with my tears.
My nose had turned red, from continues blowing.
My face pail, ghostly pail and slim from not feeding—
I looked starved.
And I would stay that way.
“Frankie..” I whispered once more.
He left me, for my own brother.
My own flesh and blood, my own family.
Why?
Because Mikey was always the beautiful one.
Mikey was always the smart one.
The multi-talent one.
He could do everything, but draw. He envied me deeply because of it.
I bit my lip.
Is that why Frankie left me?
I wasn’t beautiful enough.
I wasn’t talented.
My knees wobbled, the sensation of falling filled me one again- until I hit the crowd.
I held myself, sulking loudly.
“Why wont you love me? WHY!?” I screamed.
Kill me god.
KILL ME!
I pulled open my draw searching for my ‘little friend’ my pain relief.
I felt the soft metal against my fingertip, I lifted the small object--
A small blood stained razorblade.
I breathed heavily, ripping open my buttoned sleeve rolling it up.
My left wrist was revived.
“Frankie.. FRANKKKIIEE!” I screamed, slashing the razor against my wrists, I cut deeper and deeper. The warm liquid flowed from my wrists, my head spun as a feeling of ecstasy ran through my veins.
“Frankie.. love me. Love me.. oh god p-please!” I cried harder.
I looked down towards my deep wounds.
They began to heal, until finally there was nothing—Simply blood stains.
I cried harder.
“FUCK IMMORTALITY!” I screamed louder, slashing at my wrist—Cutting deeper and deeper.
I observe red my work before it had begun the healing process.
‘Frankie’ was carved deep into my arm.
The blood flowed from my arm, making my head spin.
I cried harder, as my wounds healed.
”NO!” I yelled.
I ripped at my shirt, pulling it open me roughly.
“Bleed, fucking B-BLEED!” I screamed through painful moans.
Tear ran down my face, as I slashed at my chest.
I cut deeper and deeper.
Blood dropped from my entire body.
My head began to feel light.
My throat stung furiously.
I ignored it, slashing deeper.
I looked towards my chest--
Gasping slightly, I could see my bones.
My skin was torn--
I watched as it healed itself—Waiting until the healing process was done.
Then once again slashing at my skin.
I wasn’t going to die if I hit a vein.
I was going to die, of blood lose.
The blood drizzled from my body, as I sulked lightly.
“Frankie—Love me. Love me!” I cried.
"Gee.. I-I, don't feel the same way anymore. I-I love Mikey." Frankie words replayed in my head, over and over.
“FRAAAANNKKIIIIEEE! LOOVVEEE MEEE!” I screamed as loud as I could crying harder. I slashed at my skin again and again. Crying harder and harder each time.
“Gerard? Sir?” Ellena knocked on the door.
“FUCK OFF!” I screamed, holding myself tightly, I carved Frankie’s name into my arm, over and over.
“Gerard.. please, can I come in?” She knocked again.
“FUCK OF.” I yelled, sobbing harder. I breathed heavily, cutting into my wrist, in a repeated pattern.
“Gerard..” Ellena whispered.
I began coughing, my throat burnt.
My head spun.
I had lost to much blood.
“F-frankie..” I coughed. “S-Save me!” I yelled, coughing louder.
Ellena suddenly open the door, her mouth opened wide, as she screamed in horror.
I began carving Frankie name into my wrist, ignoring her screaming, until my head begun to spun, I collapsed.
“GERARD!” Ellena screamed, I saw the swift movement of her feet running towards me.
Blackness.
~GERARD’S P.O.V~
I felt there gazes upon my back, as I walked towards the familiar hallway.
It amazed me, that I could even walk in the condition I was in.
It amazed me, that I- Just then had said those very words to my brother.
‘No Mikey- You are no brother of mine’
A simple sentence.
Yet so powerful.
Yet so true.
I to walk.
One foot in front of the other, I reminded myself.
I took a right, slowly coming to a stop at the edge of a dark staircase.
Forgotten this place was.
Abandoned, just like me.
I sighted—
“So many memories..” I whispered to myself.
I took a deep breath, taking each step one at a time, until finally a black door awaited me. I reached out, touching the cold door knob, turning it slowly.
Click.
I sighted deeply once more, push the door open.
And there, in the split second--
I had been reminded of my former, human life.
Wasted away in this very room.
The walls painted black, barley visible as Comic strips, and single drawing cover every inch, of every wall.
I grinned, scanning my artwork.
Zombies, Ghosts.. Vampires.
That’s all I had ever thought about when I was a kid.
I was trapped in my own fantasy.
I had my artwork, and my music.
And that was it.
I took a step inside, swinging the door shut.
I gazed around--
A small bed sat lifeless in the corner, its black sheets scattered and bed unmade.
Across for it sat my sketching table, a long oak wooden table 1 meter long, covered in scattered papers and broken caracole, and wood stained with pant splatters of different sorts.
Beside my sketching table sat my dresser, a long oval mirror attached to 4 draws, clothes as such tossed onto it—Forgotten and lost.
And in the corner, sat a dusty black guitar case.
I smiled.
“Hello old friend.” I muttered, walking towards it.
I placed the guitar case onto my bed, blowing the dust away. I ran my fingers across the guitar, clicking it open, I pulled open the top of the hard case, smiling.
There lay my black Eric Clapton Stratocaster, in perfect condition.
I had only used it once or twice in my life.
Long ago, on my 13th birthday.
I had begged and begged for this guitar.
After month’s of pledging, I had finally given up.
It was never going to be mine, I would never have that beautiful guitar.
Or so it seemed-
On my 13th birthday I awoke, and there it stood staring at me.
I had never felt such happiness.
Until the day my father took me to my first lesson.
I was dreadful, I couldn’t pluck one little string without hitting the other.
My father had assured me, I would get better--
Until my actually guitar teacher had spoken to my father.
’it’s a waste of money’ He had said. ‘Some have the talent, and some don’t.’
The tears came as I ran my fingers down the middle string.
‘Frankie would love this guitar’ I thought to myself.
The warm liquid escaped my eyes, drizzling down my cheek.
“Frankie..” I whispered, coughing lightly.
I walked towards my old dressed, observing my reflection.
I practically looked dead-
My eye’s were red and sore, and stained with my tears.
My nose had turned red, from continues blowing.
My face pail, ghostly pail and slim from not feeding—
I looked starved.
And I would stay that way.
“Frankie..” I whispered once more.
He left me, for my own brother.
My own flesh and blood, my own family.
Why?
Because Mikey was always the beautiful one.
Mikey was always the smart one.
The multi-talent one.
He could do everything, but draw. He envied me deeply because of it.
I bit my lip.
Is that why Frankie left me?
I wasn’t beautiful enough.
I wasn’t talented.
My knees wobbled, the sensation of falling filled me one again- until I hit the crowd.
I held myself, sulking loudly.
“Why wont you love me? WHY!?” I screamed.
Kill me god.
KILL ME!
I pulled open my draw searching for my ‘little friend’ my pain relief.
I felt the soft metal against my fingertip, I lifted the small object--
A small blood stained razorblade.
I breathed heavily, ripping open my buttoned sleeve rolling it up.
My left wrist was revived.
“Frankie.. FRANKKKIIEE!” I screamed, slashing the razor against my wrists, I cut deeper and deeper. The warm liquid flowed from my wrists, my head spun as a feeling of ecstasy ran through my veins.
“Frankie.. love me. Love me.. oh god p-please!” I cried harder.
I looked down towards my deep wounds.
They began to heal, until finally there was nothing—Simply blood stains.
I cried harder.
“FUCK IMMORTALITY!” I screamed louder, slashing at my wrist—Cutting deeper and deeper.
I observe red my work before it had begun the healing process.
‘Frankie’ was carved deep into my arm.
The blood flowed from my arm, making my head spin.
I cried harder, as my wounds healed.
”NO!” I yelled.
I ripped at my shirt, pulling it open me roughly.
“Bleed, fucking B-BLEED!” I screamed through painful moans.
Tear ran down my face, as I slashed at my chest.
I cut deeper and deeper.
Blood dropped from my entire body.
My head began to feel light.
My throat stung furiously.
I ignored it, slashing deeper.
I looked towards my chest--
Gasping slightly, I could see my bones.
My skin was torn--
I watched as it healed itself—Waiting until the healing process was done.
Then once again slashing at my skin.
I wasn’t going to die if I hit a vein.
I was going to die, of blood lose.
The blood drizzled from my body, as I sulked lightly.
“Frankie—Love me. Love me!” I cried.
"Gee.. I-I, don't feel the same way anymore. I-I love Mikey." Frankie words replayed in my head, over and over.
“FRAAAANNKKIIIIEEE! LOOVVEEE MEEE!” I screamed as loud as I could crying harder. I slashed at my skin again and again. Crying harder and harder each time.
“Gerard? Sir?” Ellena knocked on the door.
“FUCK OFF!” I screamed, holding myself tightly, I carved Frankie’s name into my arm, over and over.
“Gerard.. please, can I come in?” She knocked again.
“FUCK OF.” I yelled, sobbing harder. I breathed heavily, cutting into my wrist, in a repeated pattern.
“Gerard..” Ellena whispered.
I began coughing, my throat burnt.
My head spun.
I had lost to much blood.
“F-frankie..” I coughed. “S-Save me!” I yelled, coughing louder.
Ellena suddenly open the door, her mouth opened wide, as she screamed in horror.
I began carving Frankie name into my wrist, ignoring her screaming, until my head begun to spun, I collapsed.
“GERARD!” Ellena screamed, I saw the swift movement of her feet running towards me.
Blackness.
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