Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Early Sunsets Over Monroeville
I looked up to the blaring ceiling light as I tried avoiding ever closing my eyes. I tried so hard not to blink but when my eyes started to burn and become watery, it was the only thing I could think of doing. But every time my eyes would close, his chilling black ones were waiting for me on the other side. It was as if he was living in the back of my mind. Just to make sure he wasn't forgotten. Every time I blinked his face grew more and more detailed. As if I was painting a morbid picture in my head of what he would look like if he were undead. Something I had never thought of but once I saw it, I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it.
I could feel my eyes becoming paint brushes and every time I blinked, another stroke was made to this morbid masterpiece.
My first eight strokes focused on his eyes and how vacant they were but how they held so much meaning. How they glared at me with so much malice. The next nine would focus on his pail face. How his cheek bones had grown higher and his jaws were sucked in like a heroine addict's. Those cold blue lips were what the next four strokes had emphasized on. They snarled only to reveal what they had been containing; which were painted regretfully in my head.
I drowned his scream out by playing the most ironic song I could think of at the time. But it didn't help a bit. It only made things much worse. Reminding me of how vacant and powerful those black eyes were. How they just screamed evil but were as sullen and sunken in as if he was alive again.
And the words were sang in my head. As the hazel eyes who composed the song, had met mine in sorrow.
But does anyone notice...
There's a corpse in the bed?
My stomach lurched as those words rang into my ears like the sound of an unexpected scream. I tried to block out the vivid memory which played over and over again in my head. It was like he remained looking at me even with the sheet pulled over his cold body and with most of his head blown off.
"You know, if you stare at that light long enough--you'll go blind." He had taken the pod out of my ear to draw full attention to himself. I snorted.
"So what's you're point?" I couldn't assume that he felt anything by Ethan's undead presence. I couldn't assume that the same thought had ran in his mind as it did mine. I couldn't assume that his eyes were in the back of his head as well.
"What do you feel?" He said finding the right words to say.
"What do I feel?" I had repeated the song on my iPod which reflected how I felt. But there was a specific part that he had to hear. I had rewound the song to let him hear that part. I placed the pods into his ears. He lied there next to me staring into space while focusing in on the lyrics.
But does anyone notice?
But does anyone care?
And if I have the guts
To put this to you're head
But does anything matter
If you're already dead?
And should I be shocked now,
By the last thing you said?
Before I pull this trigger,
Your eyes vacant and stained
With that I had taken the pods out of his ears and turned back to the light that was sure to make me blind sooner or later. Once I turned back I saw those familiar colors dance around in the air as my eyes adjusted. Does he have a reaction? I thought. I assumed not.
He cleared his throat.
I was wrong.
I turned to see him looking for the right thing to say. I hated that the most about him, maybe the only thing I hated about him. I wished that he would just say whatever he felt. Like he did on stage, as he did in songs.
How was this different?
"I'm sorry, Shanie."
"There wasn't a thing you could do, Gerard." I retorted.
"Then don't be mad at me!"
"I'm not mad at you! I just witnessed the person I almost married have his throat torn open, die, come back from the dead and watched his head explode." Gerard remained silent. "I think I deserve just a little time to myself right now. Thank you." I got up going over to another bed but I knew he would follow me. I hurried under the thick cotton comforter as quick as I could before he could join. I put the covers over my head sighing. I heard footsteps coming closer and swore under my breath. I felt the other side of the bed go down as I closed my eyes wishing I was some place else--in a better situation.
I thought of work.
Being behind that desk that consumed me whether I was in the building or not. The desk that controlled my life for nearly five years. I knew it was something I had to let go. I knew that there was no chance in hell that I was going to go back to the normal life that I didn't appreciate.
I figured if I thought about it hard enough I would somehow end up there again. Writing a new story on some band who remained nameless. Just typing my life away and squinting at the computer that was going to make me go blind one day. But that day hadn't come just yet. I focused on the monitor as hard as I could. Wanting this article to be what would get myself a promotion. But I focused once more and saw what I was really typing.
HIS EYES!
It was typed repeatedly for eight pages. I wanted to stop but I just kept on going. I got to the tenth page and finally stopped. I removed my hands from the keyboard and noticed that they wouldn't straighten out to their normal posture. I glanced at the monitor once again. This time, not only did I see the words--I saw his snarling face staring back at mine. I pushed from the desk backing the computer chair up from it.
Suddenly I had heard a faint hissing coming from the back of the room which was filled with countless rows of desks and computers. I was debating on whether I should have gotten up or hid under the desk. My inner-scary-movie-survivor kicked in and folded myself under the desk quietly. I heard another hiss but this time it wasn't faint at all. I tried to keep my composure under the desk and tried not to make a sound. I had seen a pair of legs run past me as I held my legs close to my chest just wishing it wouldn't have the chance in finding me.
It was angry; knocking back the tower and smashing the monitor to the floor. I saw the mouse fly all the way across the room. Papers flew all over place as I was still praying to any higher power there was, for it not to find me. I heard a soft grunt and it's hands had grabbed onto the tops of the desk. Grasping the knobs of the drawers and pulling them out swiftly.
What is it searching for?
I felt my hands become clammy as the grip on my forearms had weakened. And then the unthinkable happened; the entire desk was sent over my head in a mad rush to find me. I sat there, still folded up like a note that contained bad news. He had focused on me slowly as I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I saw his eyes once again--piercing into mine like he wanted to steal my soul just by looking at me.
But these eyes were different.
These eyes weren't Ethan's.
I sat up and gasped for my life. Unfortunately, I was still in Bed Bath and Beyond and I wasn't testing out a new bed. I caught my breath as Gerard rose beside me unscathed by the nightmare I had.
"You okay?" I turned to him seeing that he was worried. I nodded my head calmly.
"Let's get out of here." I had swung my legs off of the bed and stretched my arms out to the ceiling. "I didn't even know I had fallen asleep."
A few hours later I found myself inhaling the fumes of spray paint as I saw two 27 year old children shaking and spraying over and over again. I was greeted by an exhausted Frank wiping his head free of sweat that was never actually there in the first place.
"Why are you so tired?"
"I took inventory!"
"Frank, all you had to do was count! You refused to help poor Ray and Gerard put up barbwire and then you complain about having to count?"
"I had to count a lot though!" He whined. "Counting makes me wheeze and then I feel like an eight year old smoker!" I laughed seeing that he was dead serious.
"Frank, go sniff fumes with your girlfriend!" I pointed off to Serena who had a childish smile on her face whilst spray painting the side of the bus. A lot of times I thought that the fumes from the spray paint really influenced their personalities. It wouldn't be right to say they were born with that way. But I remembered hearing stories about Serena's mother dropping her on her head a few times so I guess that made it worse.
CJ had called to me from the doorway of the bus. I walked in to see that some seats were ripped out but not all of them. I saw him, stepping back only to see he had a chainsaw in his hands.
"Is this payback for the frappucino I threw on you?" I held my hands up over my head signaling him not to try and kill me.
"No!" He laughed. "Look," He said sitting down with the it placed on his lap horizontally. He slid it back and forth through the slot made under the windows in the bus. "So if they get attached to the side of the bus, just slice the fuckers up with this!" I looked to him not knowing what to say. He had the face of a kid in a candy store. I patted his head.
"Right."
"So do you think it's a good idea?" His eyes lit up wanting my approval.
"Let's just put it this way; I can tell you came up with it yourself."
"Yes!" He celebrated.
Serena ran up to me with spray paint can in hand.
"Shanie! Shanie! You gotta see this!"
"See what?" She grabbed my hand quickly pulling me over.
"Look what I did!" She squealed happily.
"It's awesome Rena! See what happens when you sniff spray paint? Brilliance displays!" She glared at her fiercely.
"Shanie! You gotta see mine! It's much better!" She jumped in front of me glaring at Matt.
"Nuh uh!"
"Yuh huh!" He yelled back.
"You guys are ridiculous..." I mumbled as she tried to cover her laugh. I walked off finding CJ explaining his master weapon to Gerard. Swinging the chainsaw around as if it were a toy. Gerard swiftly and carefully ducked out of the way of it before it would collide with his head. Gerard had noticed that I had been standing there when he walked over to me.
"Are you feeling okay?" He put his arm around me as we started to walk through the lot.
"Somewhat. I guess the nap had helped a little." I looked off to the side scoffing.
"Don't worry," He reassured me. "It may look like we have a lot to do but we'll be out of here no later than tomorrow morning."
"What about Andrew." I inquired curiously.
"That's the first place we're heading after getting out of here." I nodded my head. Imagining everything going smoothly as planned. But of course nothing ever happens that way.
I could feel my eyes becoming paint brushes and every time I blinked, another stroke was made to this morbid masterpiece.
My first eight strokes focused on his eyes and how vacant they were but how they held so much meaning. How they glared at me with so much malice. The next nine would focus on his pail face. How his cheek bones had grown higher and his jaws were sucked in like a heroine addict's. Those cold blue lips were what the next four strokes had emphasized on. They snarled only to reveal what they had been containing; which were painted regretfully in my head.
I drowned his scream out by playing the most ironic song I could think of at the time. But it didn't help a bit. It only made things much worse. Reminding me of how vacant and powerful those black eyes were. How they just screamed evil but were as sullen and sunken in as if he was alive again.
And the words were sang in my head. As the hazel eyes who composed the song, had met mine in sorrow.
But does anyone notice...
There's a corpse in the bed?
My stomach lurched as those words rang into my ears like the sound of an unexpected scream. I tried to block out the vivid memory which played over and over again in my head. It was like he remained looking at me even with the sheet pulled over his cold body and with most of his head blown off.
"You know, if you stare at that light long enough--you'll go blind." He had taken the pod out of my ear to draw full attention to himself. I snorted.
"So what's you're point?" I couldn't assume that he felt anything by Ethan's undead presence. I couldn't assume that the same thought had ran in his mind as it did mine. I couldn't assume that his eyes were in the back of his head as well.
"What do you feel?" He said finding the right words to say.
"What do I feel?" I had repeated the song on my iPod which reflected how I felt. But there was a specific part that he had to hear. I had rewound the song to let him hear that part. I placed the pods into his ears. He lied there next to me staring into space while focusing in on the lyrics.
But does anyone notice?
But does anyone care?
And if I have the guts
To put this to you're head
But does anything matter
If you're already dead?
And should I be shocked now,
By the last thing you said?
Before I pull this trigger,
Your eyes vacant and stained
With that I had taken the pods out of his ears and turned back to the light that was sure to make me blind sooner or later. Once I turned back I saw those familiar colors dance around in the air as my eyes adjusted. Does he have a reaction? I thought. I assumed not.
He cleared his throat.
I was wrong.
I turned to see him looking for the right thing to say. I hated that the most about him, maybe the only thing I hated about him. I wished that he would just say whatever he felt. Like he did on stage, as he did in songs.
How was this different?
"I'm sorry, Shanie."
"There wasn't a thing you could do, Gerard." I retorted.
"Then don't be mad at me!"
"I'm not mad at you! I just witnessed the person I almost married have his throat torn open, die, come back from the dead and watched his head explode." Gerard remained silent. "I think I deserve just a little time to myself right now. Thank you." I got up going over to another bed but I knew he would follow me. I hurried under the thick cotton comforter as quick as I could before he could join. I put the covers over my head sighing. I heard footsteps coming closer and swore under my breath. I felt the other side of the bed go down as I closed my eyes wishing I was some place else--in a better situation.
I thought of work.
Being behind that desk that consumed me whether I was in the building or not. The desk that controlled my life for nearly five years. I knew it was something I had to let go. I knew that there was no chance in hell that I was going to go back to the normal life that I didn't appreciate.
I figured if I thought about it hard enough I would somehow end up there again. Writing a new story on some band who remained nameless. Just typing my life away and squinting at the computer that was going to make me go blind one day. But that day hadn't come just yet. I focused on the monitor as hard as I could. Wanting this article to be what would get myself a promotion. But I focused once more and saw what I was really typing.
HIS EYES!
It was typed repeatedly for eight pages. I wanted to stop but I just kept on going. I got to the tenth page and finally stopped. I removed my hands from the keyboard and noticed that they wouldn't straighten out to their normal posture. I glanced at the monitor once again. This time, not only did I see the words--I saw his snarling face staring back at mine. I pushed from the desk backing the computer chair up from it.
Suddenly I had heard a faint hissing coming from the back of the room which was filled with countless rows of desks and computers. I was debating on whether I should have gotten up or hid under the desk. My inner-scary-movie-survivor kicked in and folded myself under the desk quietly. I heard another hiss but this time it wasn't faint at all. I tried to keep my composure under the desk and tried not to make a sound. I had seen a pair of legs run past me as I held my legs close to my chest just wishing it wouldn't have the chance in finding me.
It was angry; knocking back the tower and smashing the monitor to the floor. I saw the mouse fly all the way across the room. Papers flew all over place as I was still praying to any higher power there was, for it not to find me. I heard a soft grunt and it's hands had grabbed onto the tops of the desk. Grasping the knobs of the drawers and pulling them out swiftly.
What is it searching for?
I felt my hands become clammy as the grip on my forearms had weakened. And then the unthinkable happened; the entire desk was sent over my head in a mad rush to find me. I sat there, still folded up like a note that contained bad news. He had focused on me slowly as I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I saw his eyes once again--piercing into mine like he wanted to steal my soul just by looking at me.
But these eyes were different.
These eyes weren't Ethan's.
I sat up and gasped for my life. Unfortunately, I was still in Bed Bath and Beyond and I wasn't testing out a new bed. I caught my breath as Gerard rose beside me unscathed by the nightmare I had.
"You okay?" I turned to him seeing that he was worried. I nodded my head calmly.
"Let's get out of here." I had swung my legs off of the bed and stretched my arms out to the ceiling. "I didn't even know I had fallen asleep."
A few hours later I found myself inhaling the fumes of spray paint as I saw two 27 year old children shaking and spraying over and over again. I was greeted by an exhausted Frank wiping his head free of sweat that was never actually there in the first place.
"Why are you so tired?"
"I took inventory!"
"Frank, all you had to do was count! You refused to help poor Ray and Gerard put up barbwire and then you complain about having to count?"
"I had to count a lot though!" He whined. "Counting makes me wheeze and then I feel like an eight year old smoker!" I laughed seeing that he was dead serious.
"Frank, go sniff fumes with your girlfriend!" I pointed off to Serena who had a childish smile on her face whilst spray painting the side of the bus. A lot of times I thought that the fumes from the spray paint really influenced their personalities. It wouldn't be right to say they were born with that way. But I remembered hearing stories about Serena's mother dropping her on her head a few times so I guess that made it worse.
CJ had called to me from the doorway of the bus. I walked in to see that some seats were ripped out but not all of them. I saw him, stepping back only to see he had a chainsaw in his hands.
"Is this payback for the frappucino I threw on you?" I held my hands up over my head signaling him not to try and kill me.
"No!" He laughed. "Look," He said sitting down with the it placed on his lap horizontally. He slid it back and forth through the slot made under the windows in the bus. "So if they get attached to the side of the bus, just slice the fuckers up with this!" I looked to him not knowing what to say. He had the face of a kid in a candy store. I patted his head.
"Right."
"So do you think it's a good idea?" His eyes lit up wanting my approval.
"Let's just put it this way; I can tell you came up with it yourself."
"Yes!" He celebrated.
Serena ran up to me with spray paint can in hand.
"Shanie! Shanie! You gotta see this!"
"See what?" She grabbed my hand quickly pulling me over.
"Look what I did!" She squealed happily.
"It's awesome Rena! See what happens when you sniff spray paint? Brilliance displays!" She glared at her fiercely.
"Shanie! You gotta see mine! It's much better!" She jumped in front of me glaring at Matt.
"Nuh uh!"
"Yuh huh!" He yelled back.
"You guys are ridiculous..." I mumbled as she tried to cover her laugh. I walked off finding CJ explaining his master weapon to Gerard. Swinging the chainsaw around as if it were a toy. Gerard swiftly and carefully ducked out of the way of it before it would collide with his head. Gerard had noticed that I had been standing there when he walked over to me.
"Are you feeling okay?" He put his arm around me as we started to walk through the lot.
"Somewhat. I guess the nap had helped a little." I looked off to the side scoffing.
"Don't worry," He reassured me. "It may look like we have a lot to do but we'll be out of here no later than tomorrow morning."
"What about Andrew." I inquired curiously.
"That's the first place we're heading after getting out of here." I nodded my head. Imagining everything going smoothly as planned. But of course nothing ever happens that way.
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