Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Roses for the Dead
0 reviewsBlood trickled down my wrist yet again, and I watched as my tears mixed in with them, feeling more of a dissapointment than ever.
0Unrated
Roses for the Dead
Chapter One
Alex's arms were wrapped round me as I tried to stifle my sobs. Blood had matted my already red hair and my side was acheing, and I could not stop crying no matter how hard I tried. Drunken yells from downstairs telling me to shut up were getting louder, and I was getting more and more terrified because the tears wouldn't stop falling. Alex pushed my hair behing my ears and rubbed my back, shushing me. He was just as hurt as I was as he'd tried to protect me, but he didn't seem to care or even feel it.
"C'mon Willow. Calm down otherwise he's gonna hurt you again," he said, his eyes portraying pain and worry. I knew how scared he was and so took in several deep breaths. My sobbing calmed down, and only a few tears were left trickling. Alex sighed in relief and stood up, supporting me on his shoulder. He winced as he began to walk and guilt spread through my heart.
"I'm sorry," I managed, the pain in my side making it difficult to breath let alone talk. He looked at me like I was mad.
"What for?" he asked, and it was my turn to look at him like he was crazy.
"For the fact that you got hurt protecting me. And the fact that I manage to get myself hurt almost every night and you're the one who ends up looking after me. And-" I gushed before Alex cut me off.
"This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault, okay? It's his fault" he jerked a thumb downstairs "and if you ever think it's your fault you're wrong. Alright?" I nodded, only half convinced. Alex noticed and sighed. As he gently set me down on my bed, he looked at me.
"It's not your fault. Dad's a dick. He always will be, and the fact he's done this to you will be something I will never forgive him for." And with that he left the room.
My alarm is the worst noise ever to wake up to. The minute it starts going off you feel almost suicidal.
"It can't be that time already," I groaned, but the alarm kept beeping. I realized I'd have to turn it off before it woke dad up, otherwise I was dead meat. Alex had already left for school as his started almost an hour before mine. We used to both go to the same school until I was expelled for "possession of harmful drugs (cigarettes) and truancy". In my defence, most of the time I was off because I couldn't physically walk. Or because I didn't feel like it. Alex was the complete opposite. He's never been in detention, let alone suspension or expulion. However, he does get into a lot of fights outside of school as he's usually protecting me. Over protective older brothers for ya. My Green Day top was the first top I could see, and so threw it on along with my black skinny jeans. I hadn't taken my lip or nose ring out last night, so I left those in and put in all of my ear rings. My batman hoodie was lying across my desk and I groaned when I realized it still had a blood stain on. Sighing, I routed around for another one and came across my Misfits one, so I just put that one on instead. Looking a the clock I saw I had enough time to stick my head under the shower, so I did just that. Watching the blood from last night swirl around along with the water made me feel slightly ill, so I closed my eyes and refused to watch it instead. After I'd gotten rid of every last bit of dried blood, I quickly blew dry it and let my bangs fall in front of my eyes the way they usually do. I found it slightly funny in a sick way that I first cut in my own side fringe when I was eight to hide a black eye my dad had left me, and now I never have my hair styled any other way. The red of my hair against the paleness of my skin was very contrasting, and I realized with a start I'd forgotten my make up. Mentally kicking myself I grabbed my eyeliner and mascara and put it on in my normal fashion. Grabbing my rucksack, I walked past the kitchen debating whether to have breakfast or not.
"Nah, I'm too fat anyways," I muttered to myself and walked out the door, making sure to close it quietly so that my dad wasn't woken up.
As my Converse hit the cracked pavement, the introduction of Come As You Are blasting into my ears from my earphones, my thumb had found my wrist and was subconciously rubbing up and down the many cuts that were along it. I knew that it was a stupid thing to do. I knew that it was wrong and disgusting. I knew how weird I was for doing it and yet I couldn't stop. Ecspecially living with that man. From my bag, I could practically feel the razor smiling at me, knowing that I was going to need him. It was my first day at a new school. Like heck I was going to be noticed. A loser. A loner. An outcast, as always.
The first thing I noticed about my new school was the fact that there was no one like me. Everyone was wearing shorts or tank tops or UGGS. Looking around, there wasn't a single pair of Converse or a band top that wasn't Justine Bieber or Black Eyed Peas. Ugh. No one has decent music taste anymore. It kind of hurt. Shoving my hands in my pockets I walked across the crowded hallway towards the reception. My hood was still up, but I was refusing to put it down because the looks I was getting were priceless. I got to the reception desk and stood awkwardly, waiting for the receptionist to turn up. After five minutes, still no one was there, so I looked around for a bell or something. Of course there wasn't one.
"Hello?" I called into the reception. A short woman came out with short white hair and glasses perched on the end of her nose. I knew I was short, but standing next to her I felt tall, something I very rarely feel.
"Yes?" Her accent was southern, and yet still posh. I tried to smile politely, but I think it came out as a grimace.
"I'm Willow Gaskarth. I'm new here, and I need my timetable and locker combination," I said sweetly. The lady just looked at me disapprovingly and then walked back into the room she'd come out of. A moment later she came out with a bundle of papers, practically threw them at me then left without another word. Sighing for what felt like the millionth time, I looked down at what locker I had. 1284. Okay. I can find that, right?
Turned out I couldn't. I had to ask three different people because the first two I asked just looked at me and laughed. In result of this I was ten minutes late for homeroom, resulting me in detention at lunch. But not before I was made to stand at the front and described myself. I hate standing in front of people, so this was painful.
"Erm... I'm Willow, I was expelled from my last school and I like music?" I said, hoping that would be enough. The teacher didn't look pleased, but she just waved me to a seat at the back on my own. I was fine with that. I pulled my sketchbook out and carried on with the angel I had been drawing for the past day or two now. The wings were the only thing not going right at all, and I couldn't get the texture just right. Call me a perfectionist. Just before the bell was about to go, a boy ran into the room. He had a pierced nose and lip just like me, but his piercings were on opposite sides to mine. He had red eyeliner on under his eyes, which I think were hazel and he had a Misfits satchel.
"Mr Iero. Late again I see. What's your excuse this time?" The teacher's voice was dripping with sarcasm. The boy just smiled and shrugged.
"Couldn't be bothered to come in today but parents made me get up," he said, and started making his way to the back of the room. He stopped abruptly when he saw me. I waved sheepishly. He looked at me weirdly, then threw himself next to me.
"Mr Iero, you've not gotten out of detention," The teacher was back. "You can be joining Miss Gaskarth here. I have a lot of jobs that need to be doing," And with that she walked back up to the front. Mr Iero turned to me.
"I'm Frank," he said, sticking out his hand.
"Willow," I replied, shaking it. He nodded at my hoodie.
"Misfits fan?" he asked.
"No, I just liked the hoodie," I said simply.
"Oh."
"I'm joking douche. I love them," I grinned. His face turned into one of relief. He then noticed my sketchpad, and grabbed it before I had chance to see what he was doing. Flicking through the pages, he looked at me impressed.
"These are actually really good," he said, handing back the sketchpad. I felt my face go bright red.
"Thanks," I smiled, suddenly going really shy. Frank looked at me for a moment, and said "You know what. I think we could be very good friends,". I didn't know if he was joking or not, but as the bell rang I mentally gave myself a pat on the back.
Maybe I won't be such a loser I thought.
Chapter One
Alex's arms were wrapped round me as I tried to stifle my sobs. Blood had matted my already red hair and my side was acheing, and I could not stop crying no matter how hard I tried. Drunken yells from downstairs telling me to shut up were getting louder, and I was getting more and more terrified because the tears wouldn't stop falling. Alex pushed my hair behing my ears and rubbed my back, shushing me. He was just as hurt as I was as he'd tried to protect me, but he didn't seem to care or even feel it.
"C'mon Willow. Calm down otherwise he's gonna hurt you again," he said, his eyes portraying pain and worry. I knew how scared he was and so took in several deep breaths. My sobbing calmed down, and only a few tears were left trickling. Alex sighed in relief and stood up, supporting me on his shoulder. He winced as he began to walk and guilt spread through my heart.
"I'm sorry," I managed, the pain in my side making it difficult to breath let alone talk. He looked at me like I was mad.
"What for?" he asked, and it was my turn to look at him like he was crazy.
"For the fact that you got hurt protecting me. And the fact that I manage to get myself hurt almost every night and you're the one who ends up looking after me. And-" I gushed before Alex cut me off.
"This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault, okay? It's his fault" he jerked a thumb downstairs "and if you ever think it's your fault you're wrong. Alright?" I nodded, only half convinced. Alex noticed and sighed. As he gently set me down on my bed, he looked at me.
"It's not your fault. Dad's a dick. He always will be, and the fact he's done this to you will be something I will never forgive him for." And with that he left the room.
My alarm is the worst noise ever to wake up to. The minute it starts going off you feel almost suicidal.
"It can't be that time already," I groaned, but the alarm kept beeping. I realized I'd have to turn it off before it woke dad up, otherwise I was dead meat. Alex had already left for school as his started almost an hour before mine. We used to both go to the same school until I was expelled for "possession of harmful drugs (cigarettes) and truancy". In my defence, most of the time I was off because I couldn't physically walk. Or because I didn't feel like it. Alex was the complete opposite. He's never been in detention, let alone suspension or expulion. However, he does get into a lot of fights outside of school as he's usually protecting me. Over protective older brothers for ya. My Green Day top was the first top I could see, and so threw it on along with my black skinny jeans. I hadn't taken my lip or nose ring out last night, so I left those in and put in all of my ear rings. My batman hoodie was lying across my desk and I groaned when I realized it still had a blood stain on. Sighing, I routed around for another one and came across my Misfits one, so I just put that one on instead. Looking a the clock I saw I had enough time to stick my head under the shower, so I did just that. Watching the blood from last night swirl around along with the water made me feel slightly ill, so I closed my eyes and refused to watch it instead. After I'd gotten rid of every last bit of dried blood, I quickly blew dry it and let my bangs fall in front of my eyes the way they usually do. I found it slightly funny in a sick way that I first cut in my own side fringe when I was eight to hide a black eye my dad had left me, and now I never have my hair styled any other way. The red of my hair against the paleness of my skin was very contrasting, and I realized with a start I'd forgotten my make up. Mentally kicking myself I grabbed my eyeliner and mascara and put it on in my normal fashion. Grabbing my rucksack, I walked past the kitchen debating whether to have breakfast or not.
"Nah, I'm too fat anyways," I muttered to myself and walked out the door, making sure to close it quietly so that my dad wasn't woken up.
As my Converse hit the cracked pavement, the introduction of Come As You Are blasting into my ears from my earphones, my thumb had found my wrist and was subconciously rubbing up and down the many cuts that were along it. I knew that it was a stupid thing to do. I knew that it was wrong and disgusting. I knew how weird I was for doing it and yet I couldn't stop. Ecspecially living with that man. From my bag, I could practically feel the razor smiling at me, knowing that I was going to need him. It was my first day at a new school. Like heck I was going to be noticed. A loser. A loner. An outcast, as always.
The first thing I noticed about my new school was the fact that there was no one like me. Everyone was wearing shorts or tank tops or UGGS. Looking around, there wasn't a single pair of Converse or a band top that wasn't Justine Bieber or Black Eyed Peas. Ugh. No one has decent music taste anymore. It kind of hurt. Shoving my hands in my pockets I walked across the crowded hallway towards the reception. My hood was still up, but I was refusing to put it down because the looks I was getting were priceless. I got to the reception desk and stood awkwardly, waiting for the receptionist to turn up. After five minutes, still no one was there, so I looked around for a bell or something. Of course there wasn't one.
"Hello?" I called into the reception. A short woman came out with short white hair and glasses perched on the end of her nose. I knew I was short, but standing next to her I felt tall, something I very rarely feel.
"Yes?" Her accent was southern, and yet still posh. I tried to smile politely, but I think it came out as a grimace.
"I'm Willow Gaskarth. I'm new here, and I need my timetable and locker combination," I said sweetly. The lady just looked at me disapprovingly and then walked back into the room she'd come out of. A moment later she came out with a bundle of papers, practically threw them at me then left without another word. Sighing for what felt like the millionth time, I looked down at what locker I had. 1284. Okay. I can find that, right?
Turned out I couldn't. I had to ask three different people because the first two I asked just looked at me and laughed. In result of this I was ten minutes late for homeroom, resulting me in detention at lunch. But not before I was made to stand at the front and described myself. I hate standing in front of people, so this was painful.
"Erm... I'm Willow, I was expelled from my last school and I like music?" I said, hoping that would be enough. The teacher didn't look pleased, but she just waved me to a seat at the back on my own. I was fine with that. I pulled my sketchbook out and carried on with the angel I had been drawing for the past day or two now. The wings were the only thing not going right at all, and I couldn't get the texture just right. Call me a perfectionist. Just before the bell was about to go, a boy ran into the room. He had a pierced nose and lip just like me, but his piercings were on opposite sides to mine. He had red eyeliner on under his eyes, which I think were hazel and he had a Misfits satchel.
"Mr Iero. Late again I see. What's your excuse this time?" The teacher's voice was dripping with sarcasm. The boy just smiled and shrugged.
"Couldn't be bothered to come in today but parents made me get up," he said, and started making his way to the back of the room. He stopped abruptly when he saw me. I waved sheepishly. He looked at me weirdly, then threw himself next to me.
"Mr Iero, you've not gotten out of detention," The teacher was back. "You can be joining Miss Gaskarth here. I have a lot of jobs that need to be doing," And with that she walked back up to the front. Mr Iero turned to me.
"I'm Frank," he said, sticking out his hand.
"Willow," I replied, shaking it. He nodded at my hoodie.
"Misfits fan?" he asked.
"No, I just liked the hoodie," I said simply.
"Oh."
"I'm joking douche. I love them," I grinned. His face turned into one of relief. He then noticed my sketchpad, and grabbed it before I had chance to see what he was doing. Flicking through the pages, he looked at me impressed.
"These are actually really good," he said, handing back the sketchpad. I felt my face go bright red.
"Thanks," I smiled, suddenly going really shy. Frank looked at me for a moment, and said "You know what. I think we could be very good friends,". I didn't know if he was joking or not, but as the bell rang I mentally gave myself a pat on the back.
Maybe I won't be such a loser I thought.
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