Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > So Many Bright Lights That Cast A Shadow
Gerard had taken to walking to and from school. It allowed for more time to think than driving did. He would walk, and breathe, and think about everything. About his friends, his family, Mikey, Frank, school, his life in general. It seemed though, that no matter how much he thought, he never actually got any answers. Just piled more questions up in the back of his mind. He was always alone, he preferred it that way. The days were long, and the weather was turning colder. These days helped Gerard to concentrate on what mattered.
It was on just such a day that he found himself walking through the streets, and he heard a commotion coming from a back alley. His better judgement and older self told him to leave it alone; better safe than sorry. However, his newly developed character urged him to check it out, something telling him that he wasn't going to like what he saw, but he had to see it.
He heard what was going on before he saw it, and his suspicions were confirmed.
"You fucking faggot!" Bob's voice; Gerard could tell it from a mile away. "You fucking fairy fuck! What did you do to him!" Gerard faintly heard other voices, muffled, yelling support at Bob. "My best friend! What did you do?"
Gerard's stomach dropped as he realized who Bob was talking about. And the only person that he could be talking to. Please, he thought. No, anyone but--
He turned the corner to see a sight that he wouldn't soon forget. It made him queasy to his stomach. There was Bob, and Frank, held up by two of Bob's cronies while Bob yelled at him. A few other kids were gaggled around, laughing and cheering him on. Occasionally, he would deliver a swift punch to the stomach, or slap to the face. Frank hung there, limply, having given up before this even began.
"You fucking changed him! I don't know what you did, but you fucking did it! You fucking asshole fudge-packing fairy!" A square punch in the jaw made Frank's head snap to the side, splitting his lip and sending blood blossoming out over his chin and down his neck, soaking the front of his t-shirt. Gerard surged forward without thinking, planting his hand on Bob's shoulder. He turned and saw his friend. "Gerard!" he said. "This fucking--"
"Don't say it, Bob," Gerard spat. "What the fuck are you doing!" the color was rising in his cheeks, his fists clenching and cracking his knuckles.
"Gerard, I just--"
"No! You don't do this, Bob! He is a human being, you can't just--" he walked forward and shook off the henchman, gently holding Frank's shoulder. "Are you okay?" He asked softly. Frank nodded without looking up. He shook off Gerard and walked off a little, standing far enough away to hope that they forgot about him.
"What the fuck, man?" Bob yelled, beginning to get angry at Gerard. "You've changed! You know that? You fucking changed and I don't even fucking know who you are anymore! Whatever happened to the plan? And for that matter, what happened to my best friend?"
"You're right, Bob, I have changed. I've grown up, and I'm in love! I'm in love with the boy you were just beating the shit out of!" A collective gasp swept the small crowd. Gerard froze. He hadn't meant to say that, and he definitely knew that it was the wrong thing to say.
"You what?" Bob hissed, advancing on him. Oh no...Gerard wasn't stupid, he knew that in a fight against Bob, he didn't stand a chance. Bob had a good 30 pounds on him, if not more, and he could fight better. Gerard was better with words. But right now, words escaped him. Right now, there were no words.
His breath caught in his throat and he couldn't speak. Come on, Gerard, Frank urged. Do something! Throw a punch! Run away, something! Frank was frozen in place, he couldn't do anything. His breathing was shallow and uneven, and his heart raced.
He saw it all in slow motion. Bob threw a punch, and it was all over from there. The goons that had held him moments ago were now holding Gerard while Bob walloped him in the stomach, punching him in the face many times, knocking him back and forth. He pushed the two other guys away and they stepped back, allowing Gerard to collapse on the floor.
Bob began to throw kicks, getting Gerard in the stomach, the sides, the face, anywhere. Finally finding his legs, Frank surged forward, intent on saving Gerard. But now everyone had advanced, and they were all having a go at Gerard, kicking, punching, stomping, it was all so surreal. Over and over, Frank heard the sickening sound of flesh on flesh, skin colliding with shoes, bone crunching under the weight of everyone attacking.
One good punch sent Frank sprawling backwards, collapsing against a wall and knocking his head against the brick. Everything began to grow fuzzy, and his peripheral vision began to go black, fogging inward to the rest of his vision, until he passed out, everything stopped.
Gerard felt every single punch, kick, and strike to his body. His stomach felt ready to implode, and his nose stung, his cheeks feeling hollow and swollen at the same time. He was trying to wait patiently for this assailment to cease, but it seemed to go on forever. His head pounded, he was sure something was broken. Tears, hot, angry, shameful tears leaked down his cheeks, soaking the pavement, dripping off his chin, mixing with the blood dribbling all down his front. He sniffed, trying with all his might not to cry out, not to give them that much, that sick satisfaction that he knew they relished in, because he had once relished it as well.
Frank began to come to, opening his eyes a crack, dazed, confused, wondering where he was and why he hurt so much. Then, like a dam breaking with the full weight of the dark water behind it, his memories came flooding back to him. The alley, Bob, Gerard, he could still hear them beating him. He wondered how long he had been out. Faintly, dimly, he heard a police siren wailing off in the distance.
A scuttle, shuffling feet, lots of commotion and yells, in a flash, they were all gone. Frank moved his head, moaning as he leaned back against the wall. He lifted up and sat forward, looking for Gerard.
"Gerard," he muttered, spotting the collapsed figure and rushing over. He crawled the ten or so feet, ignoring the searing pain all over his body. "Gerard," he croaked once more. "C'mon, get up." He shook the older boy's shoulder, willing him to wake up so much that it hurt. Please, he thought. Please Gerard, just get up, move, COME ON. Tears leaked from the corners of Frank's eyes, his jaw trembling, sobs choking in the back of his throat. "Gerard!" he yelled. "Gerard! Wake up! Wake the fuck up! Wake up! Come on! COME ON! Wake up!" he was shrieking, straining his voice, using every last ounce of himself to will Gerard to wake up, or breathe, or just move. He shook his limp body, sobbing, crying fully. "WAKE UP!" Frank lifted his head, kissing his face, wetting the older boy's cheeks with his own tears.
But when he let go, Gerard's head just fell back against the pavement, lifeless.
It was on just such a day that he found himself walking through the streets, and he heard a commotion coming from a back alley. His better judgement and older self told him to leave it alone; better safe than sorry. However, his newly developed character urged him to check it out, something telling him that he wasn't going to like what he saw, but he had to see it.
He heard what was going on before he saw it, and his suspicions were confirmed.
"You fucking faggot!" Bob's voice; Gerard could tell it from a mile away. "You fucking fairy fuck! What did you do to him!" Gerard faintly heard other voices, muffled, yelling support at Bob. "My best friend! What did you do?"
Gerard's stomach dropped as he realized who Bob was talking about. And the only person that he could be talking to. Please, he thought. No, anyone but--
He turned the corner to see a sight that he wouldn't soon forget. It made him queasy to his stomach. There was Bob, and Frank, held up by two of Bob's cronies while Bob yelled at him. A few other kids were gaggled around, laughing and cheering him on. Occasionally, he would deliver a swift punch to the stomach, or slap to the face. Frank hung there, limply, having given up before this even began.
"You fucking changed him! I don't know what you did, but you fucking did it! You fucking asshole fudge-packing fairy!" A square punch in the jaw made Frank's head snap to the side, splitting his lip and sending blood blossoming out over his chin and down his neck, soaking the front of his t-shirt. Gerard surged forward without thinking, planting his hand on Bob's shoulder. He turned and saw his friend. "Gerard!" he said. "This fucking--"
"Don't say it, Bob," Gerard spat. "What the fuck are you doing!" the color was rising in his cheeks, his fists clenching and cracking his knuckles.
"Gerard, I just--"
"No! You don't do this, Bob! He is a human being, you can't just--" he walked forward and shook off the henchman, gently holding Frank's shoulder. "Are you okay?" He asked softly. Frank nodded without looking up. He shook off Gerard and walked off a little, standing far enough away to hope that they forgot about him.
"What the fuck, man?" Bob yelled, beginning to get angry at Gerard. "You've changed! You know that? You fucking changed and I don't even fucking know who you are anymore! Whatever happened to the plan? And for that matter, what happened to my best friend?"
"You're right, Bob, I have changed. I've grown up, and I'm in love! I'm in love with the boy you were just beating the shit out of!" A collective gasp swept the small crowd. Gerard froze. He hadn't meant to say that, and he definitely knew that it was the wrong thing to say.
"You what?" Bob hissed, advancing on him. Oh no...Gerard wasn't stupid, he knew that in a fight against Bob, he didn't stand a chance. Bob had a good 30 pounds on him, if not more, and he could fight better. Gerard was better with words. But right now, words escaped him. Right now, there were no words.
His breath caught in his throat and he couldn't speak. Come on, Gerard, Frank urged. Do something! Throw a punch! Run away, something! Frank was frozen in place, he couldn't do anything. His breathing was shallow and uneven, and his heart raced.
He saw it all in slow motion. Bob threw a punch, and it was all over from there. The goons that had held him moments ago were now holding Gerard while Bob walloped him in the stomach, punching him in the face many times, knocking him back and forth. He pushed the two other guys away and they stepped back, allowing Gerard to collapse on the floor.
Bob began to throw kicks, getting Gerard in the stomach, the sides, the face, anywhere. Finally finding his legs, Frank surged forward, intent on saving Gerard. But now everyone had advanced, and they were all having a go at Gerard, kicking, punching, stomping, it was all so surreal. Over and over, Frank heard the sickening sound of flesh on flesh, skin colliding with shoes, bone crunching under the weight of everyone attacking.
One good punch sent Frank sprawling backwards, collapsing against a wall and knocking his head against the brick. Everything began to grow fuzzy, and his peripheral vision began to go black, fogging inward to the rest of his vision, until he passed out, everything stopped.
Gerard felt every single punch, kick, and strike to his body. His stomach felt ready to implode, and his nose stung, his cheeks feeling hollow and swollen at the same time. He was trying to wait patiently for this assailment to cease, but it seemed to go on forever. His head pounded, he was sure something was broken. Tears, hot, angry, shameful tears leaked down his cheeks, soaking the pavement, dripping off his chin, mixing with the blood dribbling all down his front. He sniffed, trying with all his might not to cry out, not to give them that much, that sick satisfaction that he knew they relished in, because he had once relished it as well.
Frank began to come to, opening his eyes a crack, dazed, confused, wondering where he was and why he hurt so much. Then, like a dam breaking with the full weight of the dark water behind it, his memories came flooding back to him. The alley, Bob, Gerard, he could still hear them beating him. He wondered how long he had been out. Faintly, dimly, he heard a police siren wailing off in the distance.
A scuttle, shuffling feet, lots of commotion and yells, in a flash, they were all gone. Frank moved his head, moaning as he leaned back against the wall. He lifted up and sat forward, looking for Gerard.
"Gerard," he muttered, spotting the collapsed figure and rushing over. He crawled the ten or so feet, ignoring the searing pain all over his body. "Gerard," he croaked once more. "C'mon, get up." He shook the older boy's shoulder, willing him to wake up so much that it hurt. Please, he thought. Please Gerard, just get up, move, COME ON. Tears leaked from the corners of Frank's eyes, his jaw trembling, sobs choking in the back of his throat. "Gerard!" he yelled. "Gerard! Wake up! Wake the fuck up! Wake up! Come on! COME ON! Wake up!" he was shrieking, straining his voice, using every last ounce of himself to will Gerard to wake up, or breathe, or just move. He shook his limp body, sobbing, crying fully. "WAKE UP!" Frank lifted his head, kissing his face, wetting the older boy's cheeks with his own tears.
But when he let go, Gerard's head just fell back against the pavement, lifeless.
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