Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Play ring around the ambulance..
I still can't get over how amazing you guys are! thanks so much
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Gerard's P.O.V
We sat there for a few minutes, silently enjoying the moment of harmonious peace. It was a moment that we all wished would never end. But, inevitably, the school bell brought us to the present. Last period slipped by without me picking up a word of physics, my mind was plagued by questions far more important than velocity.
I hung around outside music, waiting for Mikey to appear. As always, he was the first out, top button already undone and a half-smile slid across his face when his eyes found me. He stopped in front of me and passed a torn piece of paper into my hand.
'If you can, urm, get these things for me i'd appreciate it. I wrote where they should be in my room.' He grinned sheepishly. I opened the paper and glanced down, frowning, at the sloppy handwriting scrawled across it:
The list contiued, to my horror, until there was enough stuff to last a month, or more.
'M-Mikey,' I gasped. 'How long are you planning to stay at Frank's for?'
He gazed down at the floor, avoiding eye contact, and scuffed his worn converse through the dust.
'Just give me time, Gee, give him some time. He hates my guts right now, and I hardly love the man at the moment. I promise I'll come back, if he wants me to, but not now. Give it time.'
I sighed, realizing how rational his thinking was.
'Okay Mikes, i'll drop it off later.'
His arms encircled me and I breathed in his familiar smell. All too soon, Frankie appeared and whisked him away with a quick ‘Thanks Gee’ and tentative smile. I liked the guy, I really did, He cared about Mikey and I trust him to take care of him, but I can’t help to feel a bitter taste of jealously in my mouth as they laughed and joked away from music block.
I turned up my drive, shivering slightly as I saw a spot of blood on the doorframe. I pushed the door open and walked straight into what smelt like a liquor warehouse. I could see upturned furniture and countless bottles through a gap in the lounge door, and hear the laboured breathing of my dad. I crept upstairs, ignoring my room and heading straight to Mikey's. Besides the usual cluttered mess of comics and cds, there was a noticeable difference. It seemed..darker. Empty, quiet without my kid brother sitting on the bed reading or singing along to his stereo, which would be blaring out our favourite songs. I’d never been in here without Mikey before, and it put me into a sense of unease. I pulled out the crumpled list out of my blazer and quickly scoured the room for the needed items. It didn’t take me long, and soon I had a bulging school bag full of Mikey’s essentials. I hurried out of the room, unwilling to linger there longer than needed, walking straight into what smelt like a distillery.
I looked up to see eyes seared with anger boring into me.
‘Dad! I was just, uh, looking for my CDs..’ I stuttered, trying to squeeze past him. It was no use, he was blocking off the stairs.
‘Reaaally? Well whaa’s all that in your bag?’ he slurred, sending rancid waves of vodka stink rolling towards me.
‘Just my washing, dad, it’s nothing, honestly.’ I looked up, trying to look as innocent as possible. Dad sneered and then suddenly exploded with anger.
‘DON’T LIE TO ME YOU LITTLE SHIT! YOU WERE GOING TO YOUR BROTHER, WHERE IS HE?!’ He spat, hands curling into deadly fists.
‘I d-don’t know, he j-just asked me to pack some stuff and leave it somewhere for him-’
‘BULLSHIT’ he declared. He veered dangerously towards me, fists raised high. I braced myself for the blow, shielding my face from the oncoming pain. Instead of a pummelling blow, a forceful push to the chest was all I received. But it was enough. I was already known for my bad balance, a dangerous klutz, so it was no surprise I started to fall backwards. Instead of feeling the hard floor on my back, I just continued to fall backwards. Then it hit me. The sickening realisation that I was standing at the top of the stairs when I was pushed. I was falling down the stairs.
A scream escaped my lips and my hip connected with wood. That sent me spinning, whirling, tumbling down. My whole world reduced to a blur of colors and my dad’s laughter, until I plummeted into the seemingly never ending blackness.
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Gerard's P.O.V
We sat there for a few minutes, silently enjoying the moment of harmonious peace. It was a moment that we all wished would never end. But, inevitably, the school bell brought us to the present. Last period slipped by without me picking up a word of physics, my mind was plagued by questions far more important than velocity.
I hung around outside music, waiting for Mikey to appear. As always, he was the first out, top button already undone and a half-smile slid across his face when his eyes found me. He stopped in front of me and passed a torn piece of paper into my hand.
'If you can, urm, get these things for me i'd appreciate it. I wrote where they should be in my room.' He grinned sheepishly. I opened the paper and glanced down, frowning, at the sloppy handwriting scrawled across it:
'Anthrax shirt (Under bed?)
2 pairs of black skinnies (Wardrobe)
Couple of hoodies (pretty much everywhere)
Toothbrush (bathroom, duh)'
The list contiued, to my horror, until there was enough stuff to last a month, or more.
'M-Mikey,' I gasped. 'How long are you planning to stay at Frank's for?'
He gazed down at the floor, avoiding eye contact, and scuffed his worn converse through the dust.
'Just give me time, Gee, give him some time. He hates my guts right now, and I hardly love the man at the moment. I promise I'll come back, if he wants me to, but not now. Give it time.'
I sighed, realizing how rational his thinking was.
'Okay Mikes, i'll drop it off later.'
His arms encircled me and I breathed in his familiar smell. All too soon, Frankie appeared and whisked him away with a quick ‘Thanks Gee’ and tentative smile. I liked the guy, I really did, He cared about Mikey and I trust him to take care of him, but I can’t help to feel a bitter taste of jealously in my mouth as they laughed and joked away from music block.
I turned up my drive, shivering slightly as I saw a spot of blood on the doorframe. I pushed the door open and walked straight into what smelt like a liquor warehouse. I could see upturned furniture and countless bottles through a gap in the lounge door, and hear the laboured breathing of my dad. I crept upstairs, ignoring my room and heading straight to Mikey's. Besides the usual cluttered mess of comics and cds, there was a noticeable difference. It seemed..darker. Empty, quiet without my kid brother sitting on the bed reading or singing along to his stereo, which would be blaring out our favourite songs. I’d never been in here without Mikey before, and it put me into a sense of unease. I pulled out the crumpled list out of my blazer and quickly scoured the room for the needed items. It didn’t take me long, and soon I had a bulging school bag full of Mikey’s essentials. I hurried out of the room, unwilling to linger there longer than needed, walking straight into what smelt like a distillery.
I looked up to see eyes seared with anger boring into me.
‘Dad! I was just, uh, looking for my CDs..’ I stuttered, trying to squeeze past him. It was no use, he was blocking off the stairs.
‘Reaaally? Well whaa’s all that in your bag?’ he slurred, sending rancid waves of vodka stink rolling towards me.
‘Just my washing, dad, it’s nothing, honestly.’ I looked up, trying to look as innocent as possible. Dad sneered and then suddenly exploded with anger.
‘DON’T LIE TO ME YOU LITTLE SHIT! YOU WERE GOING TO YOUR BROTHER, WHERE IS HE?!’ He spat, hands curling into deadly fists.
‘I d-don’t know, he j-just asked me to pack some stuff and leave it somewhere for him-’
‘BULLSHIT’ he declared. He veered dangerously towards me, fists raised high. I braced myself for the blow, shielding my face from the oncoming pain. Instead of a pummelling blow, a forceful push to the chest was all I received. But it was enough. I was already known for my bad balance, a dangerous klutz, so it was no surprise I started to fall backwards. Instead of feeling the hard floor on my back, I just continued to fall backwards. Then it hit me. The sickening realisation that I was standing at the top of the stairs when I was pushed. I was falling down the stairs.
A scream escaped my lips and my hip connected with wood. That sent me spinning, whirling, tumbling down. My whole world reduced to a blur of colors and my dad’s laughter, until I plummeted into the seemingly never ending blackness.
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