Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Forever
We’re 9 now and in fourth grade. We’re running around the school yard, jumping in and out of the tires that are placed on the ground. The other kids in our year are playing with us but it’s still only us. We are best friends for forever. It’ll always be just the two of us.
“Mikey!” I yell as you begin to run away from the tires and I dart after you, laughing as I catch up to you. You giggle when I wrap my hands around your torso and struggle to get away from me, laughing all the time. I hold you tighter as you squirm and then I shout “you’re it!”
I let go of you quickly and sprint away from you towards the climbing frame in the playground. It’s the base that we always dub as ‘homie’. I reach it before you can catch me and I climb up to the top where you’re not allowed.
You grumble at me before running off to tag someone else as ‘it’. You get Mark and he begins to chase after someone else as you run towards the homie. You climb up next to me but now there are lots of us up here and we’re all squashed on. Soon some people are going to have to leave but I don’t want it to be me. I don’t want to get caught.
We sit with smiles on our faces as Tina now runs around the playground tagging people and we laugh as she catches someone who then runs to the next. People are jumping off the climbing frame and running as close to ‘it’ and running back – risking being caught.
You grab my hand and pull me down from our perch above the school and you run with me, our hands still together.
We laugh and run as Charlie chases after us. He reaches me first and presses his hand firm against my shoulder blade, shouting ‘you’re it!’ when he gets me.
I rip my hand out of yours and you jolt away from me before I can get you, leaving me stumbling after you. I run after you but you had a head start and I can’t catch you.
“Mikey!” I yell as you run from me. You just laugh and continue to run away from me so I change my plan and run after a girl who squeals. I catch up to her quickly and brand her as ‘it’.
I run away from her and find you. You’re still running from me, thinking that I’m going to tag you.
“Mikey! Christina’s ‘it’,” I yell and you stop running. You sit down in a corner behind the sheds where we can’t be seen and I sit down next to you, panting from all the running. You’re out of breath, too, and we giggle in between our ragged breathing. You lean your head against my shoulder and huff our heavily. I laugh at you and wrap my hand around your shoulder, pulling you into me.
We sit there behind the shed until the teachers call us back in for lesson time because it’s the end of recess. We grumble at the same time and laugh, standing up from our seats.
We’re in the same class because we put up such a fuss at the beginning of our school lives. We were going to be put into different classes and we had cried for hours at the prospect of not being together. We had always been together. We lived next to each other and had been best friends ever since we were born. You were a month older than me so we were best friends since I was born.
Our mums had put up such a fuss to the school to make it so that we were in the same class. They knew how upset we would have been if we were separated and so they made sure we were always together.
I follow you into the classroom and Mrs Crane is waiting for us all to hurry up and sit down at our seats. We sit down next to each other and we get our pencil cases out of our chair bags. We have matching ones. Your mum made them for both of us because she’s much better at sewing than my mum is.
We also have matching pencil cases with matching stationary. Most of the things that we own are the same. Our parents go shopping for us together so that they know it’s all going to match. We go clothes shopping together and try on the same clothes; though you have a slightly bigger size because you’re taller than me. My dad’s short, too, so my mum says it’s likely that I won’t grow very tall. You have a really tall dad so she says that you might be tall, too. It’s not fair. I want to be tall like you. I want us to be tall together.
Mrs Crane starts the class and we’re doing our times tables. We repeat after her “1 times 3 is 3, 2 times 3 is 6, 3 times 3 is 9” up until “12 times 3 is 36”. She gets us all to chant it without her help and before we know it, the 3 times table is engrained into our memory. Or at least the three times table up until 12 times 3 is 36.
We annoy teachers sometimes because we’re always chatting and disrupting the class. We don’t mean to do it, we just like to talk. We always find something to talk about because we’re best friends and we tell each other everything. I tell you about the goldfish my mum let us buy and how it swims round and round in its plastic fish bowl for hours upon end. I tell you how it comes to the surface when I feed it, its mouth puckering at the surface of the water and sucking in the flakes.
You tell me about Max and how he ate your dinner last night. You tell me that he’s getting put down soon because he’s old and has cancer in his left lung. I hold you as you cry into my arms.
We’re not in lesson anymore because school’s finished. Instead we’re in my bedroom. We had been playing on my playstation when you told me. I let you cry into my shoulder and I rub your back because you’re my best friend and I love you. I also love Max and I don’t want him to die so I cry, too. He’s practically my dog, too, as I’m at your house so often. Soon, we’re just a blubbering mess of tears and my mum comes into my room when she hears us.
“What’s wrong?!” she says caringly and sits beside us, pulling us both into her warm arms. We cry against her work shirt, soaking it with our tears and you tell her about max. She rubs our backs and ‘shh’s us, telling us that it will be okay. That Max will be going to a better place and we believe her. We really do believe in ‘doggy heaven’.
“Mikey!” I yell as you begin to run away from the tires and I dart after you, laughing as I catch up to you. You giggle when I wrap my hands around your torso and struggle to get away from me, laughing all the time. I hold you tighter as you squirm and then I shout “you’re it!”
I let go of you quickly and sprint away from you towards the climbing frame in the playground. It’s the base that we always dub as ‘homie’. I reach it before you can catch me and I climb up to the top where you’re not allowed.
You grumble at me before running off to tag someone else as ‘it’. You get Mark and he begins to chase after someone else as you run towards the homie. You climb up next to me but now there are lots of us up here and we’re all squashed on. Soon some people are going to have to leave but I don’t want it to be me. I don’t want to get caught.
We sit with smiles on our faces as Tina now runs around the playground tagging people and we laugh as she catches someone who then runs to the next. People are jumping off the climbing frame and running as close to ‘it’ and running back – risking being caught.
You grab my hand and pull me down from our perch above the school and you run with me, our hands still together.
We laugh and run as Charlie chases after us. He reaches me first and presses his hand firm against my shoulder blade, shouting ‘you’re it!’ when he gets me.
I rip my hand out of yours and you jolt away from me before I can get you, leaving me stumbling after you. I run after you but you had a head start and I can’t catch you.
“Mikey!” I yell as you run from me. You just laugh and continue to run away from me so I change my plan and run after a girl who squeals. I catch up to her quickly and brand her as ‘it’.
I run away from her and find you. You’re still running from me, thinking that I’m going to tag you.
“Mikey! Christina’s ‘it’,” I yell and you stop running. You sit down in a corner behind the sheds where we can’t be seen and I sit down next to you, panting from all the running. You’re out of breath, too, and we giggle in between our ragged breathing. You lean your head against my shoulder and huff our heavily. I laugh at you and wrap my hand around your shoulder, pulling you into me.
We sit there behind the shed until the teachers call us back in for lesson time because it’s the end of recess. We grumble at the same time and laugh, standing up from our seats.
We’re in the same class because we put up such a fuss at the beginning of our school lives. We were going to be put into different classes and we had cried for hours at the prospect of not being together. We had always been together. We lived next to each other and had been best friends ever since we were born. You were a month older than me so we were best friends since I was born.
Our mums had put up such a fuss to the school to make it so that we were in the same class. They knew how upset we would have been if we were separated and so they made sure we were always together.
I follow you into the classroom and Mrs Crane is waiting for us all to hurry up and sit down at our seats. We sit down next to each other and we get our pencil cases out of our chair bags. We have matching ones. Your mum made them for both of us because she’s much better at sewing than my mum is.
We also have matching pencil cases with matching stationary. Most of the things that we own are the same. Our parents go shopping for us together so that they know it’s all going to match. We go clothes shopping together and try on the same clothes; though you have a slightly bigger size because you’re taller than me. My dad’s short, too, so my mum says it’s likely that I won’t grow very tall. You have a really tall dad so she says that you might be tall, too. It’s not fair. I want to be tall like you. I want us to be tall together.
Mrs Crane starts the class and we’re doing our times tables. We repeat after her “1 times 3 is 3, 2 times 3 is 6, 3 times 3 is 9” up until “12 times 3 is 36”. She gets us all to chant it without her help and before we know it, the 3 times table is engrained into our memory. Or at least the three times table up until 12 times 3 is 36.
We annoy teachers sometimes because we’re always chatting and disrupting the class. We don’t mean to do it, we just like to talk. We always find something to talk about because we’re best friends and we tell each other everything. I tell you about the goldfish my mum let us buy and how it swims round and round in its plastic fish bowl for hours upon end. I tell you how it comes to the surface when I feed it, its mouth puckering at the surface of the water and sucking in the flakes.
You tell me about Max and how he ate your dinner last night. You tell me that he’s getting put down soon because he’s old and has cancer in his left lung. I hold you as you cry into my arms.
We’re not in lesson anymore because school’s finished. Instead we’re in my bedroom. We had been playing on my playstation when you told me. I let you cry into my shoulder and I rub your back because you’re my best friend and I love you. I also love Max and I don’t want him to die so I cry, too. He’s practically my dog, too, as I’m at your house so often. Soon, we’re just a blubbering mess of tears and my mum comes into my room when she hears us.
“What’s wrong?!” she says caringly and sits beside us, pulling us both into her warm arms. We cry against her work shirt, soaking it with our tears and you tell her about max. She rubs our backs and ‘shh’s us, telling us that it will be okay. That Max will be going to a better place and we believe her. We really do believe in ‘doggy heaven’.
Sign up to rate and review this story