Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > I'm Just A Ghost, Haunting My Own Life
As I walked out of the bathroom, I saw Pete and I was really taken aback. He’d looked rough all week, but, by now, I barely recognised him, he looked so ill. Paler than I’d ever seen him, his red eyes held the only flash of colour on his tired and drawn face. But it was his hair that I noticed the most. Pete’s hair is always perfect; soft, straightened, nothing out of place – but not today. Today it was unwashed, uncombed, matted and even a little greasy.
“Can I have a few minutes?” I asked Alice.
“Of course,” she nodded with a genuinely happy smile.
Taking herself out of the room, she gave me some privacy. Settling myself on the couch next to him, at first all I could do was stare. I wanted so much to be able to give him a warm and comforting hug; to tell him I’d been stupid and so had he! I wanted to take away all his pain and suffering. I had, after all, been instrumental in causing it – it was the least I could do.
Picking up the TV remote, Pete increased the volume and listened to the news report on my disappearance. The insincerity of the anchor was only adding to his pain. As he sat next to me, I could see him trembling as the report moved on to his desperate plea for my safe return. All I wanted was to draw him close; it killed me that I couldn’t comfort him.
Switching off the TV, Pete’s fingers curled angrily around the remote, squeezing it until I honestly thought it would snap in his hands. With a sudden deafening scream, he hurled the remote at the blank screen, shattering the monitor and causing a few sparks to fly.
My shocked gaze snapped from the TV to Pete; he was shaking, crying hard, his face buried in his hands. I’d never seen him like this. I had no idea he could be like this; so desperately unhappy. To say that I was really worried about him was a tremendous understatement and, if I were to be honest, I was at a loss to deal with the mess of emotions that I was feeling at the sight of him.
“Pete!” I cried, wishing desperately that I could reassure him that I was well.
With a gasp, he looked up; his eyes wide and mouth open in surprise, his tears halting in an instant. Pushing himself from the couch he looked around; apparently confused, shocked and even a little afraid.
“Trick?”
His shaky voice was little more than a whisper, almost as if he were afraid to think my name, never mind say it.
“Trick? Was that really you? Are you here?” he continued with a disbelieving tone, doubting his own senses as his brain began some sort of reality check.
“You can hear me?” I ventured, hardly daring to think it possible.
“Where are you?” he replied, his head turning as he frantically looked around the room. “Patrick, please don’t hide, come out! Where are you?”
“P…Pete, I’m right next to you,” I stammered, not knowing what I could say to reduce the risk of upsetting him more. “Pete, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I can’t tell you how…”
Then, I don’t know… it was all so confusing. It was as if a curtain had come down very suddenly over my eyes and mind. I couldn’t think, or see or feel anything except the desperate cold biting through every inch of my pain-racked body. It was either dark, I had my eyes shut, or possibly both. My coordination and awareness were shot to pieces.
The next sensation that came to me was the pain that seared through my back and head; so great that I almost passed out. It was all too confusing. Only moments ago, I had been standing in Pete’s apartment, and now I was… where was I? Had Alice done this? It didn’t seem likely; I hadn’t experienced any pain during my travels with her. But where was she? She was nowhere in sight.
Slowly I became vaguely aware that I was lying on my back, my arms splayed out to the side with my legs trailing awkwardly up a flight of stairs. Every inch of my body was in excruciating agony. I couldn’t move, but I could hear a voice filtering slowly into my barely conscious thoughts.
“Patrick!”
There it was again; a voice I recognised. A face I knew loomed into view and I felt a hand placed gently over mine.
“Oh, thank God, Patrick! You’re alive! Are you okay? I’ve called 911; the ambulance will be here soon. They told me not to move you, but can you feel everything? Can you feel your toes? Have you broken anything?”
“Pete?” I struggled to say. I doubted I was even audible.
“Yeah, buddy, hold on, you’re going to be okay.”
I must have closed my eyes. Perhaps I even drifted off for a moment, because Pete’s raised voice pulled me abruptly back to consciousness again.
“No, Trick! You have to stay awake! You hear me? Awake. Talk to me Patrick. Can you talk to me?”
“What happened?” I whispered.
“We had a row, you left the apartment. It was all my fault, I tried to hide it, but I was missing Ash and Bronx so much. I came running after you and I heard you fall. You’ve been out cold for a few minutes.”
“Minutes?” I tried to shake my head and, well, I don’t know what I looked like when the pain hit me, but if Pete’s reaction was anything to go by, I looked real bad.
“Don’t move!” he yelled at me, but I didn’t need telling twice. “Hold on, Patrick, they’ll be here soon,” he promised me.
Already I could hear the door open at the top of the stairs then came the clatter of boots on the stone steps.
“They’re here!” he cried, but I was already fading. “Patrick! Please stay awake!”
I could feel hands on me, some sort of support being placed around my neck and head, but it was all becoming very blurry.
“Don’t lose my hat,” I slurred as I became aware of a sensation of being lifted and carried upstairs strapped to a hard plastic stretcher.
“He’s been going in and out of consciousness,” I heard Pete telling someone. “He tried to move his head, and he nearly passed out with the pain.”
“Don’t worry, son,” a reassuring voice told him. “That’s a good sign. At least he can still feel. Come on, we’ll get him to the hospital. You look like you could use a valium too.”
“Can I have a few minutes?” I asked Alice.
“Of course,” she nodded with a genuinely happy smile.
Taking herself out of the room, she gave me some privacy. Settling myself on the couch next to him, at first all I could do was stare. I wanted so much to be able to give him a warm and comforting hug; to tell him I’d been stupid and so had he! I wanted to take away all his pain and suffering. I had, after all, been instrumental in causing it – it was the least I could do.
Picking up the TV remote, Pete increased the volume and listened to the news report on my disappearance. The insincerity of the anchor was only adding to his pain. As he sat next to me, I could see him trembling as the report moved on to his desperate plea for my safe return. All I wanted was to draw him close; it killed me that I couldn’t comfort him.
Switching off the TV, Pete’s fingers curled angrily around the remote, squeezing it until I honestly thought it would snap in his hands. With a sudden deafening scream, he hurled the remote at the blank screen, shattering the monitor and causing a few sparks to fly.
My shocked gaze snapped from the TV to Pete; he was shaking, crying hard, his face buried in his hands. I’d never seen him like this. I had no idea he could be like this; so desperately unhappy. To say that I was really worried about him was a tremendous understatement and, if I were to be honest, I was at a loss to deal with the mess of emotions that I was feeling at the sight of him.
“Pete!” I cried, wishing desperately that I could reassure him that I was well.
With a gasp, he looked up; his eyes wide and mouth open in surprise, his tears halting in an instant. Pushing himself from the couch he looked around; apparently confused, shocked and even a little afraid.
“Trick?”
His shaky voice was little more than a whisper, almost as if he were afraid to think my name, never mind say it.
“Trick? Was that really you? Are you here?” he continued with a disbelieving tone, doubting his own senses as his brain began some sort of reality check.
“You can hear me?” I ventured, hardly daring to think it possible.
“Where are you?” he replied, his head turning as he frantically looked around the room. “Patrick, please don’t hide, come out! Where are you?”
“P…Pete, I’m right next to you,” I stammered, not knowing what I could say to reduce the risk of upsetting him more. “Pete, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I can’t tell you how…”
Then, I don’t know… it was all so confusing. It was as if a curtain had come down very suddenly over my eyes and mind. I couldn’t think, or see or feel anything except the desperate cold biting through every inch of my pain-racked body. It was either dark, I had my eyes shut, or possibly both. My coordination and awareness were shot to pieces.
The next sensation that came to me was the pain that seared through my back and head; so great that I almost passed out. It was all too confusing. Only moments ago, I had been standing in Pete’s apartment, and now I was… where was I? Had Alice done this? It didn’t seem likely; I hadn’t experienced any pain during my travels with her. But where was she? She was nowhere in sight.
Slowly I became vaguely aware that I was lying on my back, my arms splayed out to the side with my legs trailing awkwardly up a flight of stairs. Every inch of my body was in excruciating agony. I couldn’t move, but I could hear a voice filtering slowly into my barely conscious thoughts.
“Patrick!”
There it was again; a voice I recognised. A face I knew loomed into view and I felt a hand placed gently over mine.
“Oh, thank God, Patrick! You’re alive! Are you okay? I’ve called 911; the ambulance will be here soon. They told me not to move you, but can you feel everything? Can you feel your toes? Have you broken anything?”
“Pete?” I struggled to say. I doubted I was even audible.
“Yeah, buddy, hold on, you’re going to be okay.”
I must have closed my eyes. Perhaps I even drifted off for a moment, because Pete’s raised voice pulled me abruptly back to consciousness again.
“No, Trick! You have to stay awake! You hear me? Awake. Talk to me Patrick. Can you talk to me?”
“What happened?” I whispered.
“We had a row, you left the apartment. It was all my fault, I tried to hide it, but I was missing Ash and Bronx so much. I came running after you and I heard you fall. You’ve been out cold for a few minutes.”
“Minutes?” I tried to shake my head and, well, I don’t know what I looked like when the pain hit me, but if Pete’s reaction was anything to go by, I looked real bad.
“Don’t move!” he yelled at me, but I didn’t need telling twice. “Hold on, Patrick, they’ll be here soon,” he promised me.
Already I could hear the door open at the top of the stairs then came the clatter of boots on the stone steps.
“They’re here!” he cried, but I was already fading. “Patrick! Please stay awake!”
I could feel hands on me, some sort of support being placed around my neck and head, but it was all becoming very blurry.
“Don’t lose my hat,” I slurred as I became aware of a sensation of being lifted and carried upstairs strapped to a hard plastic stretcher.
“He’s been going in and out of consciousness,” I heard Pete telling someone. “He tried to move his head, and he nearly passed out with the pain.”
“Don’t worry, son,” a reassuring voice told him. “That’s a good sign. At least he can still feel. Come on, we’ll get him to the hospital. You look like you could use a valium too.”
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