Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Crash Into My Arms
As I rotated the volume button on my iHome to the right, my friend Rochelle asked, "Don't you ever get sick of listening to this band?". She sat in a tye-dye beach chair, flicking through this month's AP Magazine.
Shrugging, I rolled over onto my stomach so I could look into the murky pond water. I tried reaching a floating leaf a few feet away from me while I sang along to the sweet sound of Gerard Way's voice, "Well I thought I heard you say to me, we'll go, so far, far as we can. And I just can stay one day we'll run away."
"I'm thinking about dying my hair again," Rochelle told me, dipping her hand in the water and instantly taking it out. "Holey shit, that's cold!"
"Well yeah, it's Maine. And it's only May third," I said. Then, referring to her first statement, I asked, "Why do you want to dye your hair? It's going to fall out from all of the chemicals you put in it." I envied her hair; long, healthy, and naturaly straight.
She shrugged, and said "Oh well," with a joking smirk.
The last song ended and the first chord of 'I'm Not Okay' rang out. In a burst of excitement, I stood up, putting on a show for Rochelle, the wildlife, and anyone who would happen to peak out of their window in the nearby homes. Holding up an invisible microphone, I started, "Well if you wanted honesty that's all you had to say," I trotted across the dock, as if it were my stage, holding up my other hand.
"Oh, wow, Casey. You sound just like him," Rochelle said sarcastically. "Now stop, you're making a fool of yourself."
I rolled my eyes and continued where the song was now at, "For all the dirty looks, the photographs your boyfriend took, remember when you broke your foot from jumping off the second floor?" I sucked in a new lungful of air to sing the chorus when I, usual clutz that I am, managed to trip over the towel I had been laying on and fell into the fifty-nine degree water below, hitting my head on the side of the dock as I did so.
As I felt the bubbles tingling across my arms, everything went black.
Shrugging, I rolled over onto my stomach so I could look into the murky pond water. I tried reaching a floating leaf a few feet away from me while I sang along to the sweet sound of Gerard Way's voice, "Well I thought I heard you say to me, we'll go, so far, far as we can. And I just can stay one day we'll run away."
"I'm thinking about dying my hair again," Rochelle told me, dipping her hand in the water and instantly taking it out. "Holey shit, that's cold!"
"Well yeah, it's Maine. And it's only May third," I said. Then, referring to her first statement, I asked, "Why do you want to dye your hair? It's going to fall out from all of the chemicals you put in it." I envied her hair; long, healthy, and naturaly straight.
She shrugged, and said "Oh well," with a joking smirk.
The last song ended and the first chord of 'I'm Not Okay' rang out. In a burst of excitement, I stood up, putting on a show for Rochelle, the wildlife, and anyone who would happen to peak out of their window in the nearby homes. Holding up an invisible microphone, I started, "Well if you wanted honesty that's all you had to say," I trotted across the dock, as if it were my stage, holding up my other hand.
"Oh, wow, Casey. You sound just like him," Rochelle said sarcastically. "Now stop, you're making a fool of yourself."
I rolled my eyes and continued where the song was now at, "For all the dirty looks, the photographs your boyfriend took, remember when you broke your foot from jumping off the second floor?" I sucked in a new lungful of air to sing the chorus when I, usual clutz that I am, managed to trip over the towel I had been laying on and fell into the fifty-nine degree water below, hitting my head on the side of the dock as I did so.
As I felt the bubbles tingling across my arms, everything went black.
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