Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Helena

wake up, baby

by adrenaline_bomb 1 review

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres:  - Published: 2011-03-22 - Updated: 2011-03-22 - 585 words

0Unrated
"Frank..." I heard a voice say my name, Mikey?
"Frank!" Okay, that was Bob.
"Please wake up Frank." Right, Ray.
"Dude! Open your goddamn eyes!" Brian. Hold on, where the hell was Gerard?
"G-Gee?" I croaked, my eyelids fluttering open. "G-Gerard?"
"I'm here Frankie, behind you." His voice was soft as he whispered to me in my ear.
"Oh Gerard!" I gasped, turning around to hug him tightly.
"I'm so sorry Frankie." What the hell was he sorry for?
"What?! Why?" I asked, pulling away and holding his shoulders, sitting between his legs on the hotel bed and holding his shoulders.
"I left you alone, I shouldn't have left you alone. This is all my fault." He choked on the last words and ducked his head as the tears started to fall.
"Gerard. Did you beat me up? Did you leave me on the street for dead? No, Gerard. You didn't. This is not your fault, not at all." I took his face in my hands and looked him in the eye. He just pulled away, shuffling up to the head board and pulling his knees to his chest.
"Gerard, don't do this." Mikey pleaded, looking sorrowfully at his older brother.
"I'll do what's best for Frank. And I'm not what's best for him anymore, we're not safe together. He's not safe." Gerard growled and my heart shattered inside my chest.
"Please." I begged, crying myself now. "Please, no. Please tell me your not saying what I think your saying."
"It's for the best Frank, it's over." He mumbled, looking at his knees.
"I love you." I choked before running to the bathroom and locking the door behind me. Was the only time we ever came into the bathroom for any length of time when we were crying, angry or depressed?
"I'm sorry, guys." I muttered, before reaching into the bathroom cupboard and pulling out my razor. I sat on the floor cross legged and started doing what I had promised myself, my band mates and my best friends that I would never do again. I started to cut. I placed the cold metal against the tattooed skin of my wrist and began slashing. Thin lines of crosses hardly showing against the ink, though sending warm shocks and jolts through my body, the tingles lighting the fire of my heart, the hate which used to burn so brightly once more alive. They metal tingled and I screeched with the pain I was enjoying so much, it was what I needed, it was my drug. The blood poured onto the bathroom floor and soaked my skinny jeans. I switched wrists, calving the name of the one I loved and depended on so much into my right wrist. Gerard. The writing was fairly neat and looked just like his gothic italic script, which just made me cry harder. I dropped the blade next to me on the floor and sat, propped up against the bathroom wall, wrapped up in my own bubble of depression and pain. The shouts and cries of my friends banging at the door seemed far away, there was one voice missing. The voice I needed to hear so much, but couldn't, the voice that would probably never linger in my ears again. The voice of my angel. The voice of Gerard Way.




It will get better I promise. No ones going to die and Gee and Frank are sure to work it out. Keep reading and R&R my lovely little vamps.
xxxx
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