Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Tell Me I'm A Bad Man
“No!” the young man screamed, as he lay on the floor, thrashing wildly with both his arms and legs. “Get away from me!”
Scrambling to his feet, he pulled the mattress from the bunk across in front of him, throwing the pillow at the opposite wall.
“Hey, what’s with you?” a second, much older, heavy-set man, gripped his arms in an attempt to calm him down. Regretting it immediately, the older man was thrown off balance, pushed over the fallen mattress. As he let go of the young man’s arms, a clenched fist caught him across the jaw, sending him tumbling backwards. Landing half on the mattress and half on the floor, the man rolled towards his own bunk, getting to his feet, his eyes blazing with fury.
He watched with a combination of anger and disbelief as the young man backed himself protectively against the wall. His fingers clawed blindly at the table next to him, and each time his hand closed on an object, he hurled it with all his strength.
“Get away from me! You’re not real! You’re dead! Stop laughing! You’re dead! I saw you!”
“Hey!” He called out angrily, nursing his bruised jaw as the younger man continued his frenzied attack on an invisible foe. “Will someone get the fuck down here before he kills himself, or I do it for him!”
As the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps came along the corridor, the young man sank to the floor, his knees curled up to his chest. Rocking slightly as he hugged his knees, he continued to mutter quietly to himself.
“You’re dead. It’s not real. You’re dead. You’re dead.”
“About time too!” the older man snapped as two prison guards unlocked the cell door. “He’s a psycho! I shouldn’t have to share a cell with this maniac!”
“Yeah, all right Conners, calm down. Come on, out,” one of the guards demanded.
“Me?” the surprised prisoner growled. “I’m going into solitary? He attacked me! You can…”
“You’re going to see the Doc, get that split lip seen to. Don’t worry, he’ll be gone by the time you’re fixed up,” the first guard laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Conners snapped in return.
“You, being afraid of him,” he snickered again. “Somehow he doesn’t look the type to inspire terror.”
“I’m not afraid of him!” Conners countered as the cell door was locked once more. “But he shouldn’t be here, he’s a nut case!”
“How sane do you have to be to kill your own brother and closest friends?” the guard commented dryly. “The psych guys’ll see him soon enough, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he was faking to get off Death Row.”
“Well, if he is, he’s doing a damn good job of it,” Conners replied touching the tear in his lip with his tongue. “A little too convincing.”
*
“So, you went to see him?”
“Yeah,” Bob drew his lips into a thin line as he stared off into the middle distance; the memory of visiting Gerard in prison still haunting him.
“I take it, it didn’t go well?” the therapist asked quietly.
She knew inside that she didn’t really need to ask. Bob Bryar had clearly gone without any sleep and his eyes were bloodshot, from either lack of sleep, crying, or probably both. It had been six months since the kidnapping but Gerard had been sentenced only two weeks earlier. Lisa Brady knew that Bob had resisted going to a therapist for a long time, but with the trial approaching fast, he had succumbed. She knew he had once been a strong and confident man, but the whole experience had shaken him to the core and had taken its toll on him, both mentally and physically. She made a mental note that Bob had lost yet more weight and his clothes hung about him, shapeless and drab.
“It went exactly how I should have expected it to go,” he replied finally.
“Tell me what happened,” she encouraged.
Bob sighed hopelessly and raised his eyes to the ceiling.
“I saw him at the trial,” he began, shaking his head. “Cold, remorseless; it just wasn’t him. Or… well, that’s what I told myself, anyway. When they showed the video of what he’d done to… oh, God…”
He paused, his brow furrowed, eyes staring intently at the floor. Balling his hands into fists, he trembled with anger and grief at the memory of it.
“Your Honour, I would like to introduce item 3A into evidence at the moment. While I think it necessary that the jury watch this video, I should warn them that they are likely to be shocked and appalled by its content.”
“Objection!” the defence lawyer rose to his feet.
“Grounds?” the judge asked sternly.
“Prosecution is leading the jury.”
“Mister Davies, I have seen this video, as have you, and I can assure you, the content IS both shocking and appalling. It is fair to warn the Court. Objection overruled.”
“Your Honour, with respect…”
The Judge turned a dark glance towards the defence counsel and his client.
“What?” he growled.
“My client did not commit the crimes shown on the video, so…”
“We are here to determine whether or not your client orchestrated the crimes. The video does include your client and is a vital piece of evidence to determine his guilt or innocence. Miss Williams, you may proceed.”
“Thank you, Your Honour.”
Stepping out from behind the large desk as a wide screen television was wheeled into the courtroom and set up near he witness stand, Prosecution Counsel, Stephanie Williams addressed the jury.
“The video you’re about to watch is terrifying and shocking. You will see the horrific deaths of Frank Iero and the defendant’s own brother, Mikey Way. In addition, you will see the attempted murder of Mister Bryar, who due to an oversight on Mister Way’s part, survived the ordeal.”
“Objection, Your Honour!”
“Sustained. Miss Williams, you are well aware that we are here to prove or disprove the defendant’s involvement. You may not state that as if it were a known fact. The jury will disregard that statement.”
“Disregard!” Gerard hissed as he pulled at the jacket of his lawyer as he sat down once more. “They can’t pretend they didn’t hear that!”
“Listen to me, Gerard,” the lawyer whispered in return as the video began to play. “With the case they’ve got against you, we’ll be damn lucky if we can just get you life, you carry on like this and you’ll be on Death Row in the blink of an eye. Now sit still, and keep quiet! We’ll get you on the stand after this and try and get some doubt in their minds.”
“What about, Bryar? Look at him! He’s a wreck. The jury’s lapping it up; they won’t believe me!”
“If you carry on talking through the video, like you don’t give a damn, you might as well announce you did it and you’re proud of it!”
“Bob,” Lisa interrupted his thoughts. “What was he like when you visited him?”
“Smug, arrogant, conceited,” Bob looked towards her. “And a little crazy.”
“In what way?”
“He didn’t seem to understand that he’d done anything wrong. He seemed really angry that he’d been caught and he threatened me.”
“Threatened you?”
“Yeah, said he was going to get out and come after me.”
“Are you worried about that?”
“No, not really,” Bob sighed, “I mean, he’s in prison, it’s pretty secure. I don’t see him getting out. Besides, if he did, I’m not sure I’m the one who should be scared!”
“You want to kill him?”
Bob frowned. It sounded like the sort of thing he should say, but was already shaking his head.
“What I really want to know how we missed it? How we could be so close with him and not see what he was really like. I think that’s what worries me more than anything. His own brother!” Bob’s voice cracked. “He buried him alive and watched him die! I mean, what kind of sick mind can do that? How did we miss it? How!”
Bob dropped his head into his hands as he grew increasingly agitated. His breathing coming in short gasps. It seemed to Lisa as though the session was effectively over, but there had been a significant breakthrough. This was the first time he had spoken outright about their deaths during therapy. It was the most he’d said at all.
Scrambling to his feet, he pulled the mattress from the bunk across in front of him, throwing the pillow at the opposite wall.
“Hey, what’s with you?” a second, much older, heavy-set man, gripped his arms in an attempt to calm him down. Regretting it immediately, the older man was thrown off balance, pushed over the fallen mattress. As he let go of the young man’s arms, a clenched fist caught him across the jaw, sending him tumbling backwards. Landing half on the mattress and half on the floor, the man rolled towards his own bunk, getting to his feet, his eyes blazing with fury.
He watched with a combination of anger and disbelief as the young man backed himself protectively against the wall. His fingers clawed blindly at the table next to him, and each time his hand closed on an object, he hurled it with all his strength.
“Get away from me! You’re not real! You’re dead! Stop laughing! You’re dead! I saw you!”
“Hey!” He called out angrily, nursing his bruised jaw as the younger man continued his frenzied attack on an invisible foe. “Will someone get the fuck down here before he kills himself, or I do it for him!”
As the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps came along the corridor, the young man sank to the floor, his knees curled up to his chest. Rocking slightly as he hugged his knees, he continued to mutter quietly to himself.
“You’re dead. It’s not real. You’re dead. You’re dead.”
“About time too!” the older man snapped as two prison guards unlocked the cell door. “He’s a psycho! I shouldn’t have to share a cell with this maniac!”
“Yeah, all right Conners, calm down. Come on, out,” one of the guards demanded.
“Me?” the surprised prisoner growled. “I’m going into solitary? He attacked me! You can…”
“You’re going to see the Doc, get that split lip seen to. Don’t worry, he’ll be gone by the time you’re fixed up,” the first guard laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Conners snapped in return.
“You, being afraid of him,” he snickered again. “Somehow he doesn’t look the type to inspire terror.”
“I’m not afraid of him!” Conners countered as the cell door was locked once more. “But he shouldn’t be here, he’s a nut case!”
“How sane do you have to be to kill your own brother and closest friends?” the guard commented dryly. “The psych guys’ll see him soon enough, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he was faking to get off Death Row.”
“Well, if he is, he’s doing a damn good job of it,” Conners replied touching the tear in his lip with his tongue. “A little too convincing.”
*
“So, you went to see him?”
“Yeah,” Bob drew his lips into a thin line as he stared off into the middle distance; the memory of visiting Gerard in prison still haunting him.
“I take it, it didn’t go well?” the therapist asked quietly.
She knew inside that she didn’t really need to ask. Bob Bryar had clearly gone without any sleep and his eyes were bloodshot, from either lack of sleep, crying, or probably both. It had been six months since the kidnapping but Gerard had been sentenced only two weeks earlier. Lisa Brady knew that Bob had resisted going to a therapist for a long time, but with the trial approaching fast, he had succumbed. She knew he had once been a strong and confident man, but the whole experience had shaken him to the core and had taken its toll on him, both mentally and physically. She made a mental note that Bob had lost yet more weight and his clothes hung about him, shapeless and drab.
“It went exactly how I should have expected it to go,” he replied finally.
“Tell me what happened,” she encouraged.
Bob sighed hopelessly and raised his eyes to the ceiling.
“I saw him at the trial,” he began, shaking his head. “Cold, remorseless; it just wasn’t him. Or… well, that’s what I told myself, anyway. When they showed the video of what he’d done to… oh, God…”
He paused, his brow furrowed, eyes staring intently at the floor. Balling his hands into fists, he trembled with anger and grief at the memory of it.
“Your Honour, I would like to introduce item 3A into evidence at the moment. While I think it necessary that the jury watch this video, I should warn them that they are likely to be shocked and appalled by its content.”
“Objection!” the defence lawyer rose to his feet.
“Grounds?” the judge asked sternly.
“Prosecution is leading the jury.”
“Mister Davies, I have seen this video, as have you, and I can assure you, the content IS both shocking and appalling. It is fair to warn the Court. Objection overruled.”
“Your Honour, with respect…”
The Judge turned a dark glance towards the defence counsel and his client.
“What?” he growled.
“My client did not commit the crimes shown on the video, so…”
“We are here to determine whether or not your client orchestrated the crimes. The video does include your client and is a vital piece of evidence to determine his guilt or innocence. Miss Williams, you may proceed.”
“Thank you, Your Honour.”
Stepping out from behind the large desk as a wide screen television was wheeled into the courtroom and set up near he witness stand, Prosecution Counsel, Stephanie Williams addressed the jury.
“The video you’re about to watch is terrifying and shocking. You will see the horrific deaths of Frank Iero and the defendant’s own brother, Mikey Way. In addition, you will see the attempted murder of Mister Bryar, who due to an oversight on Mister Way’s part, survived the ordeal.”
“Objection, Your Honour!”
“Sustained. Miss Williams, you are well aware that we are here to prove or disprove the defendant’s involvement. You may not state that as if it were a known fact. The jury will disregard that statement.”
“Disregard!” Gerard hissed as he pulled at the jacket of his lawyer as he sat down once more. “They can’t pretend they didn’t hear that!”
“Listen to me, Gerard,” the lawyer whispered in return as the video began to play. “With the case they’ve got against you, we’ll be damn lucky if we can just get you life, you carry on like this and you’ll be on Death Row in the blink of an eye. Now sit still, and keep quiet! We’ll get you on the stand after this and try and get some doubt in their minds.”
“What about, Bryar? Look at him! He’s a wreck. The jury’s lapping it up; they won’t believe me!”
“If you carry on talking through the video, like you don’t give a damn, you might as well announce you did it and you’re proud of it!”
“Bob,” Lisa interrupted his thoughts. “What was he like when you visited him?”
“Smug, arrogant, conceited,” Bob looked towards her. “And a little crazy.”
“In what way?”
“He didn’t seem to understand that he’d done anything wrong. He seemed really angry that he’d been caught and he threatened me.”
“Threatened you?”
“Yeah, said he was going to get out and come after me.”
“Are you worried about that?”
“No, not really,” Bob sighed, “I mean, he’s in prison, it’s pretty secure. I don’t see him getting out. Besides, if he did, I’m not sure I’m the one who should be scared!”
“You want to kill him?”
Bob frowned. It sounded like the sort of thing he should say, but was already shaking his head.
“What I really want to know how we missed it? How we could be so close with him and not see what he was really like. I think that’s what worries me more than anything. His own brother!” Bob’s voice cracked. “He buried him alive and watched him die! I mean, what kind of sick mind can do that? How did we miss it? How!”
Bob dropped his head into his hands as he grew increasingly agitated. His breathing coming in short gasps. It seemed to Lisa as though the session was effectively over, but there had been a significant breakthrough. This was the first time he had spoken outright about their deaths during therapy. It was the most he’d said at all.
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