FicWad

Mikey's POV:

The sound of our footsteps echoed through the hallway of the hospital. I was a mess. Seriously in mess. My brown hair was askew and never had the chance to comb it. My eyes were drowsy and swollen with a red tint, as I glared at the abstract paintings on each side of the hallway walls. My glasses were getting foggy and soggy from tears. I never had the chance to clean my glasses too, I guess. My clothes...the same clothes I wore yesterday which was an Anthrax shirt and my faded jeans. I can say it again...I was in serious mess.

My mother, Donna was in front of me, leading me to the hospital room where my brother stayed. Why was he in the hospital? It isn't a long story. I knew my brother was addicted to...let's say unprescribed pills. He had to do it. I mean, he had a reason for doing it. I would have done it myself but I wasn't a fool. Why did he take those unprescribed pills...?

Well, my brother...he's a good looking guy. I mean...when I say good-looking, he was handsome. He was nineteen. His long black hair would contrast against his pale skin so dramatically. His hazel eyes glisten with his smile. He was a fool though. I say that he's just a sucker for choosing the right people to be with. Starting from the girlfriends he had, he doesn't know anything about falling in love. And when he chooses the wrong girl, that certain girl would leave him right away...cheat on him...then dump him in a humiliating way. Then Gerard would go onto his philosophical mood. He would ramble about his foolishness and his description of love. But that wasn't love. The way he felt for his girlfriends wasn't love...it wasn't lust...he just needed someone to be with. Someone who could understand him. Someone he could hold when we're not there for him. He was afraid to be alone. He always had visions that he would die alone. That he would suffer the bitterness in life alone. And whenever a girl breaks up with him, he gets an emotional breakdown.

Mom and dad's divorce crushed him...and me. That was the time where he started using the pills I told you about. But Gerard being distressed causes me emotional pain as well. Seeing him feel so alone makes me feel like I'm not his brother. Seeing him in depression was my trauma.

Seeing him lying on the bathroom floor, was a shock through my body. It was a wreckage that crushed my spirit. It was a hindrance to my breathing. It was worse than having myopia. It was a scene I never wanted to see again. I didn't know what to do, seeing him in that condition. I wanted to faint. I wanted to scream. But I ran and panicked, catching my mom's attention. We brought him to the hospital.



My mom stopped in front of a door with the number five-one-five, and written in doctor's penmanship was Way, Gerard...diagnosed by Dr. Dewees.

The door knob gently screeched as my mother opened it. I took a sigh as I stepped inside and followed my mother. She gently touched her hand on my shoulder and whispered to my ear, "Go ahead. He's in a coma. You can talk to him"

I nodded to my mother and faced the familiar body lying on the white bed. My brother looked lifeless. His then pale skin was now in a paler shade. His hair was wet as it sprawled on the white pillow. A thin tube was bandaged to his palm which lead to an inverted bottle on a stand. A monitor was on a table making beeping sounds.

My mom started to leave giving me room to talk to Gerard alone.

I looked at my brother.

"Gee..."

beep...beep...beep

"Uhh...I just want you to know that what you did was wrong.."

beep...beep...beep

"You shouldn't have done that" I said as I shook my head and glared at the beeping monitor.

beep...beep...beep

"We love you" I almost said in a joking manner, "I know you wanted to be understood. But we understand ya. We always did"

I didn't want to cry...especially in front of my brother who was in a coma. So I went to the door to call for my mother. I didn't want to talk to Gerard anymore...unless he could reply.


If only he could reply...