Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Where the animals should go...
Hey! I'm so sorry it took me this long to update, I've had tons of work to do for school, and I had to re-write this chapter several times as I wasn't sure how I wanted it to be exactly...
Well, I hope you enjoy it :)
I’VE CHOSEN SILENCE
Gerard’s POV
The chilly November breeze slowly seeped through my open window as I leaned against it, seated crossed-legged on my comic-book covered paint-splattered desk, among scattered ripped out sketch book pages. The wind softly ruffled through my jet black hair, the moonlight reflecting off my horrible ghostly-pale skin. I pressed my head against an Iron Maiden poster, thinking of how close the wind and an imaginary ninja were. Both could quietly seep into my room at night, unnoticed until they completely took over. The cold, fresh night air was slowly filling up my room, so discrete I barely noticed it, gently creeping in ready to knock me down. I stared blankly at the blue digits on my alarm clock, which seemed to find it fitting to indicate 1:21 am when perfectly aware that I was still awake. Wide awake. It’s another night... Another night where I refuse to take those goddamned pills, because I’m not stupid and fuck it, I don’t need another substance-issue related visit to the hospital on my medical record. I’ve already got enough. I shuttered at the thought of the fine, fairy dust powder I used to rely on, and the broken bottles of liquid fire I used to keep hidden under a pile of art stuff. I shook my head in attempt to chase those horrible memories out, and reach around for my sketchbook, picking up the nearest pencil. I press closer to the cooling window as I attempt to draw by moonlight, the soft, soothing alabaster glow of the moon contrasting with the harsher, harder amber glow of the street lights on the familiar pages I’ve drawn on so many times. I absent-mindedly glide the pencil along the paper, watching it twirl like a child ballerina on my sketchbook stage, the street glow serving as a spotlight. A couple minutes in, I put my 2B down and stare blankly at the paper. Great. Just wonderful, I’ve just succeeded in drawing una puta mierda*. Who said Spanish as a foreign language never came in handy? Sighing, I pick up my eraser before figuring out it’s pointless and chucking both it and my sketchbook at my wooden door, which doesn’t even swing open any more due to the number of times I’ve thrown stuff at it. I guess everyone and everything get used to being abused or beaten after a while…hell, I sure got used to it. But not this time my mom’s caring voice invaded my thoughts. Just give this school a chance…Right. I’m pathetic, I think out loud, my shaky voice shattering the night’s deadening silence. I swallow back salty tears as I remember all those previous meetings with school administrators, all those meetings where both teachers and head masters sat down by my mother, Mikey and I, their heartless selves seated on the chairs, claiming that It’s not easy having a kid with a speaking difficulty, it’s causes conflicts. And so many times I heard Mikey’s broken voice Gee’s only got a stutter…it’s not that bad…you can’t make him go! But they did. And they still do. Seven schools, Seven different hells, three different houses, fifteen different backpacks, six hospital stays and one suicide attempt…And still, It wasn’t easy having a stuttering kid in your class. Especially when he entered middle school,and then higshcool, and then Junior year, it still didn’t go away…it was always there. You know, the creepy stuttering goth art kid, or Hey! Stutter mouth! H-Hows I-I--t ga-ga-going? But for some reason, I also feel like there’s something else…something…else that’s bothering me…or fascinating me…The…the guy I saw today…at John Mitch's…he’d…he’d been looking at me…he was in before…He was gorgeous...he had dark hair, a color I couldn’t really tell if it was black or just very dark brown, floppy bangs falling choppily over his smooth face…big, child-like hazel eyes…they were gently rimmed with eyeliner…and he had some piercings too…didn’t he? Why had he been looking at me? He was handsome…he was...I mean, it’s not like I’m gay or anything…but I felt to ugly to be looked at by him…
“Gee?” My brother’s cautious voice snapped me out of my thoughts as his lanky figure slid through the opening in the door and into the darkness that was my poster-covered room. Mikey. I brought my hands up to my eyes, wiping away my tears before he got a chance to see them. He gingerly closed the door behind himself and quietly walked over to me, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the sponge bob boxers he was wearing and the fact that his light brown hair was sticking out in all directions, his glasses hanging off the edge of his nose. “Gee?” he asks again, his voice a little louder this time.
“Y-yes?” I ask, my voice so low I wonder how it’ll ever reach him, but I’m able to see him smile as I lift my head up, meeting his.
“You awake?”
“N-No d-d-dumb a-ass I-I’m sp-speaking in ma-my sla-sleep” I answer back sarcastically. Despite the small amount of light I can see him roll his light brown eyes, and then carefully start to remove some comics from my desk to make room for himself, but I just shove them all off. He smiles sheepishly before climbing up beside me, nudging my arm so that I wrap it against him.
“You’re awake” he stated, more as a question though.
“Y-yeah…” I pressed Mikey closer to me and nuzzled my nose in his hair, grateful he was here besides me. Silence slowly settled in again as I smiled thankfully, and he returned this by his trade mark I-know-you-love-me grin. We sat there, in the moonlight for quite some time, as my mind wondered off on it’s own again, remembering the many other nights this had happened. Mikey was my kid brother, and, for as long as I can remember, he’d always been there. I was just a little over two years old when he was born, early one September, and although I can’t remember that day, I remember every single birthday since. We’d always been so close, so close that once or twice I had to shrug off remarks regarding ‘inappropriate feelings’. Some Psychologists should really go to career counseling, pissing off a teenager doesn’t exactly make you the best in the business.
“Gee?” Mikey whispered, wiggling out from under my arms “Can I sleep with you tonight?” He asks, his voice pleading. I smile as genuine a smile as I can manage.
“S-Sure…n-na-nightmare?” I ask, peering at him through the ebony hair strands that cover my face. He nods, embarrassed, as I wrap my arms against him once again. He hops onto my bed, dragging me down with him making me knock over the pile of my neatly-stacked collection of Calvin and Hobbes. “F-Fuck” I curse, mentally slapping myself as I lean down to pick them up, and, once mission accomplish turn around to face my brother, who’s hysterical giggles invade my bedroom, floating out the open window into the cold November night.
“Jesus Christ Gee! Close the window!” he snorts out between laughs. I glare at him goodheartedly before reaching a pale, ghost like hand up and slamming the glass down, cringing at the sudden gust of wind forced in. I turn back to face him, a smug grin spread across his nerdy yet somehow attractive features.
“Sh-shut u-up M-Mikey” He smiles one last time, before curling up into a ball. I settle in besides him, pulling the covers over both of us, as I listen to his breathing slowly become regular. He’s asleep…I however, spend another two hours tossing and turning, my stomach in a tight, unbearable knot which seems ready to explode at the mention of tomorrow.
All! All I want to know! All I want; with just a touch of my burning hand I’m gonna live my life to destroy the world. Prime detective! Exterminate the whole fucking race and / Grunting, I violently hit the off button of my alarm clock, only to flop back down and roll over to see Mikey stretching out like a cat. I bury my nose in the white sweat-drenched pillow (insomnia can be thanked for that) deciding that I’m not getting out of bed today. Happy with my decision, I allow my eyes to close again and drift back off to the land of dreams. Gee…? A faint voice calls from far, far away. Choosing to ignore it I focus on sleep, how it cradles me in its soft, soothing arms, arms I don’t meet with that often…
“GERARD!” I jolt upwards, resulting in the smashing of my head against my brothers. Suddenly I realize the voice wasn’t that far away at all, but more like right above me. I stare at him confused. Why on earth does he want me to get up so badly, it’s not like it’s--Oh, Shit.
“Gee, we’re gonna be late for school” he says softly, knowing how much time I’ve spent dreading this very day. My head falls back down, as the tight knot in my stomach returns at an alarming rate. “Gee…it’s gonna be okay…” he coos, rubbing my forehead repeatedly “Don’t worry…you have me…” he adds tentatively. I can’t help but feel a wave of humiliation wash over me. I’m the older brother here. I’m the one that should be there for him. Not the other way around…I try and get out of bed, so tired it takes three times the normal effort. As I push myself up, I somehow succeed in shoving Mikey off my twin bed, watching him land on the wooden floor with a THUMP.
“W-wup-ps sa-sorry M-Mikey”
“Fucker” he says, glaring up at me, I can however, see the ends of his mouth curving into a smile.
“H-Hey! Re-respect f-f-for the e-elders!” We both burst out laughing, which, somehow helps with the famous knot which has now spread into my chest as well, as he pokes out his tongue and skips out of my room. I look around; multiple posters, drawings, paintings and magazine cut-outs line the walls of my small, art supply and comic book crowded room, clothes scattered everywhere…And we’ve only lived here for two weeks…I reluctantly get up, stumbling over to my mirror, where I stare defeated at my ghostly reflection. My skin is no longer a pale cream shade but deadly grey, dark purple circles under my eyes making me resemble a sleep-deprived vampire, my ebony black hair standing straight up on my head; as if I had somehow managed to receive an electrical shock while sleeping. Not that that’s impossible when sharing a bed with my brother; the kid probably holds the world record for most forks stuck in toasters…
I half walk half drag myself over to the bathroom, where I splash my face with lukewarm water, before running long spidery fingers through my hair, hoping it’ll look at least half decent. After about three minutes of me swearing at it, it finally looks acceptable, and I walk out, heading for our wooden stairs that lead down to the small but homey kitchen.
---
Mikey’s akward footsteps could be heard next to my slow, exhausted unsure ones as we walked along the paved streets, coming closer and closer to what just might be my last school…The last one till I give up and drop out. The clouds were thin, heather colored overhead, the fresh morning breeze thick with dew, which hadn’t even started to evaporate off the lawns yet. There was no trace of the sun, which honestly didn’t bother me much, but the clouds were just thin enough for it to still be fairly bright, shadows only barely eclipsed.
“It’ll be okay Gerard” Mikey whispered, as the faded brick building starts to appear ahead. I bowed my head, not having said a word in ages, not planning to do so for the whole day…
I stood there, frozen on the ground, feeling all the blood drain from my face as I stared at the reddish brown building, iron and glass door as the main entry way. I could feel my heart beat begin to slow as Mikey, puzzled, stopped and spun around, running towards me as I began to fall to the charcoal colored gravel, only to land in his lanky, shaky arms.
“M-Mikey…I c-can’t d-do the-the-this…” I choked out, as I inhaled sharply, breathing in as much air as I could.
“Yes you can…y-yes you can Gee…I know you can…” he fixed me in the eyes, his voice still shaky but his weak, innocent eyes determined. I gulped and nodded, rising quickly and almost ran through the doors, pulling Mikey by the hand.
----
Frank’s POV:
I ducked into my homeroom class, dingy teal colored linoleum tiles and paneled white walls, slipping past the teacher’s empty desk and finding a seat at the back. Within a couple of minutes, the royal blue beaten door opened only to close again, revealing the man who was assigned our homeroom teacher. His slumped lean figure strolled to the front of the class, where he peered out at us over his bent spectacles, fiddling with his maroon paisley bow tie.
“The bell has--” he started, his voice cracking mid-sentence. He paused, drew in a sharp breath before clearing his throat and continuing; “It has rung, class” his crackled voice called out, still not earning any respect from students. “SILENCE!” he cleared his throat again, as a deadly silence fell over the room. He stayed there, with such a look on his face that seemed to say ‘dare-to-speak-and-I’ll-personally-mutilate-you’. “Today we--” he was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. “Yes?” the door opened slightly as someone slipped in, their ebony black hair falling over their ivory white face, a black hoodie hanging loosely on their shoulders. I felt a surge of euphoria as I realized it was a Misfits hoodie. “Ah, yes…Our new student…I believe your name is…” he strolled down his list before snapping his head back up. The boy gingerly looked up, his hazel eyes landing on me. As soon as they met mine, I felt my mouth go dry. It was him…The guy from John's office! The…angel! It was …Gerard! I could feel my hands moisten and I quickly wiped them on my jeans, looking back up at Gerard. Our teacher turned back to him “Gerard Way…right?” Gerard nodded. “Okay…well…there’s a seat in the back there, by Mr.Iero” my heart skipped a beat as my head shot up. Gerard looked up again to locate the desk, before the little blood left in his face faded. He stood there, staring at me for a good minute before managing a small, tentative smile and walked over towards me. I watched him shuffle his worn-converse clad feet before setting his bag down on his lap as he sat down, pulling out a notebook as I sat there, sucking on my silver lip ring, debating whether or not I’d embarrass myself talking to him.
“Um…hey” I tried, an awkward smile plastered to my thin, pink, chapped lips. He looked up and smiled a little, a couple of jet black hair strands falling away from his smooth, angel like face as he waved shyly. “Um…I’m Frank” he smiled again, a little more this time and he opened his notebook, shyly reaching for my pen and scribbled ‘Gerard’. I bit my lip again, not knowing exactly how to react. “So um…” he looked at me again, a soft pink flushing his cheeks as his eyes lit up, leaving me in some sort of trance. His hazel eyes were…captivating…artistic, imaginative, and now flickering with amusement as I looked away quickly, realizing I’d been staring at him like some 12 year old school girl. I could feel the prickling crimson in my cheeks as I dared to look at him again, but this time it was he who looked away, his hair shielding his face from my intrigued expression.
I walked along the long, sinister hallways that lead outside to the football field, which was now deserted as the first lunch bell rang through the school. I cut through the empty field and went around the gym, finally getting to the isolated back part of the campus, where, on the other side of a wooden fence was an extremely large parking lot for a few surrounding supermarkets. I sat down on the back steps of the gym, leaning against its cement walls, watching a few cars park through the fence and staring up at the sky, which had now darkened, blanketing everything in some sort of somber tranquility. I liked to come here, it was away from everyone; not that I would mind some company, it could get quite lonely…But nobody seemed to want of my company, so why show them I wanted theirs? I twirled a leaf between my hands as I let my mind wander back to…Gerard…the way his thin artistically creative pale smooth fingers had shyly reached for my pen, as if he was unsure or something, the way he messily scribble his name…why hadn’t he just told me? Now that I thought of it…he hadn’t spoken the whole class…not one word…But wait, why did I care? It’s not like I liked him or anything…okay, maybe he was good looking, beautiful even, but…I jumped up as I felt a cold hand on my shoulder. My mouth went dry again as I saw who it was…He stood there, his hands in his pockets and his head bowed, his pink little button nose poking out from under his tousled hair. I leaned forward in attempt to see those eyes again, those beautiful, entrancing---wait, what? Why the hell am I describing his eyes, again? Once is enough…not even...and his hands and his hair and his---Frank. Control yourself. You’re not even…or am I? Now that I think of it I haven’t--Frank, stop.
I smiled at Gerard, who stood there shifting his balance from one foot to the next, gently swaying back and forth in front of the cement stairs.
“Hey” I managed, the moistness in my mouth returning. He waved uncomfortably, waving his hands towards the stairs. I tried as hard as I could to understand, but nothing came to me.
“D-do y-you ma-ma-mind i-if I s-sit h-h-here?” he stuttered out, his voice barely audible. I nodded, grinning enthusiastically.
“So…how’s your first day at um…school?” As soon as I ask, I want to take it back. Nice going Frank. That’s all you can think to say? Apparently, it is. He just shrugs. “Yeah…I know what you mean…some of the kids here can get really bad sometimes” I say, remembering all those “incidents” where I landed in the hospital, or found myself sobbing like some idiot…Silence settled in between us as neither of us said anything, and I rocked back and forth my knees brought up to my chest. All of a sudden Gerard got up and started looking around for something, squinting as he couldn’t see it.
“Are you looking for something?” I asked, he nodded, biting his bottom lip. “Well…what is it? I can help you find it” he nodded again, and pointed towards my bag. “…My bag…?” he shook his head. “Your bag?” I tried again, this time seeing him smile eagerly as I had understood. I got up and spotted it right under the steps, bending down to pick it up. As I handed the black battered messenger bag over to him, curiosity and concern swept over me. Why hadn’t he just asked me? I’d only heard his soft, slightly high pitched voice twice…and nothing much above a whisper… He sat back down again, smiling gratefully and reached into his bag, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. I sat down beside him as he offered me one, my tattooed hands reachung in and pulling one out. I fumbled around in my hoodie pockets before pulling out my lighter and lighting both our smokes, figuring it’s be more convenient than the small book of matches he was holding. He giggled quietly, and that was it.
“Gerard…can I ask you something?” He nodded again, I gulped, not wanting my question to scare him away or anything. “How come you don’t talk?” I spoke quietly, as if I didn’t even want nature to overhear. I saw him lower his head, ebony hair falling back down to cover it, as he remained silent. Several minutes passed, and his cigarette stayed in his silky hands un-smoked, just burning silently. Suddenly, I noticed what look like a drop fall onto the pavement in between both of us. “Gerard…? Are you…crying?” he lifted his head slowly, as I felt a pang of remorse when I saw his cheeks glistening with tears. Nice going Frank. The first guy who hangs out with you at school, and the first day you manage to make him cry. I’m the biggest idiot ever, I shouldn’t even be aloud around people I--
“S-Stop” he siad sternly, as I stared at him bewildered
“What?” I asked, uncertainty in my voice.
“D-Don’t s-say th-that a-about y-yourself…y-you’re na-not a-a-an I-idiot” I continued staring at him, as suddenly I could feel my eyes widening and my cheeks reddening.
“I said that out loud?” I stammered out, mortified. I really am an idiot. I mentally slapped myself as I heard Gerard giggle again, the corners of his mouth turning up into a soft, amused smile. And before I knew it, we were both giggling wildly, two outcasts on the back of the gym steps, attempting to smoke our fags through our hysterical laughter...
...
...
...
How come you don’t talk…?
[*I really hope ya liked it! Also...one or two reviews would be nice XD so... R&R? pwease! I'd really appreciate some feedback!I'll try and update sooner this time :)
oh, and for una puta mierda, if you're too lazy to google translate it, it basicly means shit. (That's how good one's spanish gets after living in Spain for about 2 years XD)
Well, I hope you enjoy it :)
I’VE CHOSEN SILENCE
Gerard’s POV
The chilly November breeze slowly seeped through my open window as I leaned against it, seated crossed-legged on my comic-book covered paint-splattered desk, among scattered ripped out sketch book pages. The wind softly ruffled through my jet black hair, the moonlight reflecting off my horrible ghostly-pale skin. I pressed my head against an Iron Maiden poster, thinking of how close the wind and an imaginary ninja were. Both could quietly seep into my room at night, unnoticed until they completely took over. The cold, fresh night air was slowly filling up my room, so discrete I barely noticed it, gently creeping in ready to knock me down. I stared blankly at the blue digits on my alarm clock, which seemed to find it fitting to indicate 1:21 am when perfectly aware that I was still awake. Wide awake. It’s another night... Another night where I refuse to take those goddamned pills, because I’m not stupid and fuck it, I don’t need another substance-issue related visit to the hospital on my medical record. I’ve already got enough. I shuttered at the thought of the fine, fairy dust powder I used to rely on, and the broken bottles of liquid fire I used to keep hidden under a pile of art stuff. I shook my head in attempt to chase those horrible memories out, and reach around for my sketchbook, picking up the nearest pencil. I press closer to the cooling window as I attempt to draw by moonlight, the soft, soothing alabaster glow of the moon contrasting with the harsher, harder amber glow of the street lights on the familiar pages I’ve drawn on so many times. I absent-mindedly glide the pencil along the paper, watching it twirl like a child ballerina on my sketchbook stage, the street glow serving as a spotlight. A couple minutes in, I put my 2B down and stare blankly at the paper. Great. Just wonderful, I’ve just succeeded in drawing una puta mierda*. Who said Spanish as a foreign language never came in handy? Sighing, I pick up my eraser before figuring out it’s pointless and chucking both it and my sketchbook at my wooden door, which doesn’t even swing open any more due to the number of times I’ve thrown stuff at it. I guess everyone and everything get used to being abused or beaten after a while…hell, I sure got used to it. But not this time my mom’s caring voice invaded my thoughts. Just give this school a chance…Right. I’m pathetic, I think out loud, my shaky voice shattering the night’s deadening silence. I swallow back salty tears as I remember all those previous meetings with school administrators, all those meetings where both teachers and head masters sat down by my mother, Mikey and I, their heartless selves seated on the chairs, claiming that It’s not easy having a kid with a speaking difficulty, it’s causes conflicts. And so many times I heard Mikey’s broken voice Gee’s only got a stutter…it’s not that bad…you can’t make him go! But they did. And they still do. Seven schools, Seven different hells, three different houses, fifteen different backpacks, six hospital stays and one suicide attempt…And still, It wasn’t easy having a stuttering kid in your class. Especially when he entered middle school,and then higshcool, and then Junior year, it still didn’t go away…it was always there. You know, the creepy stuttering goth art kid, or Hey! Stutter mouth! H-Hows I-I--t ga-ga-going? But for some reason, I also feel like there’s something else…something…else that’s bothering me…or fascinating me…The…the guy I saw today…at John Mitch's…he’d…he’d been looking at me…he was in before…He was gorgeous...he had dark hair, a color I couldn’t really tell if it was black or just very dark brown, floppy bangs falling choppily over his smooth face…big, child-like hazel eyes…they were gently rimmed with eyeliner…and he had some piercings too…didn’t he? Why had he been looking at me? He was handsome…he was...I mean, it’s not like I’m gay or anything…but I felt to ugly to be looked at by him…
“Gee?” My brother’s cautious voice snapped me out of my thoughts as his lanky figure slid through the opening in the door and into the darkness that was my poster-covered room. Mikey. I brought my hands up to my eyes, wiping away my tears before he got a chance to see them. He gingerly closed the door behind himself and quietly walked over to me, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the sponge bob boxers he was wearing and the fact that his light brown hair was sticking out in all directions, his glasses hanging off the edge of his nose. “Gee?” he asks again, his voice a little louder this time.
“Y-yes?” I ask, my voice so low I wonder how it’ll ever reach him, but I’m able to see him smile as I lift my head up, meeting his.
“You awake?”
“N-No d-d-dumb a-ass I-I’m sp-speaking in ma-my sla-sleep” I answer back sarcastically. Despite the small amount of light I can see him roll his light brown eyes, and then carefully start to remove some comics from my desk to make room for himself, but I just shove them all off. He smiles sheepishly before climbing up beside me, nudging my arm so that I wrap it against him.
“You’re awake” he stated, more as a question though.
“Y-yeah…” I pressed Mikey closer to me and nuzzled my nose in his hair, grateful he was here besides me. Silence slowly settled in again as I smiled thankfully, and he returned this by his trade mark I-know-you-love-me grin. We sat there, in the moonlight for quite some time, as my mind wondered off on it’s own again, remembering the many other nights this had happened. Mikey was my kid brother, and, for as long as I can remember, he’d always been there. I was just a little over two years old when he was born, early one September, and although I can’t remember that day, I remember every single birthday since. We’d always been so close, so close that once or twice I had to shrug off remarks regarding ‘inappropriate feelings’. Some Psychologists should really go to career counseling, pissing off a teenager doesn’t exactly make you the best in the business.
“Gee?” Mikey whispered, wiggling out from under my arms “Can I sleep with you tonight?” He asks, his voice pleading. I smile as genuine a smile as I can manage.
“S-Sure…n-na-nightmare?” I ask, peering at him through the ebony hair strands that cover my face. He nods, embarrassed, as I wrap my arms against him once again. He hops onto my bed, dragging me down with him making me knock over the pile of my neatly-stacked collection of Calvin and Hobbes. “F-Fuck” I curse, mentally slapping myself as I lean down to pick them up, and, once mission accomplish turn around to face my brother, who’s hysterical giggles invade my bedroom, floating out the open window into the cold November night.
“Jesus Christ Gee! Close the window!” he snorts out between laughs. I glare at him goodheartedly before reaching a pale, ghost like hand up and slamming the glass down, cringing at the sudden gust of wind forced in. I turn back to face him, a smug grin spread across his nerdy yet somehow attractive features.
“Sh-shut u-up M-Mikey” He smiles one last time, before curling up into a ball. I settle in besides him, pulling the covers over both of us, as I listen to his breathing slowly become regular. He’s asleep…I however, spend another two hours tossing and turning, my stomach in a tight, unbearable knot which seems ready to explode at the mention of tomorrow.
All! All I want to know! All I want; with just a touch of my burning hand I’m gonna live my life to destroy the world. Prime detective! Exterminate the whole fucking race and / Grunting, I violently hit the off button of my alarm clock, only to flop back down and roll over to see Mikey stretching out like a cat. I bury my nose in the white sweat-drenched pillow (insomnia can be thanked for that) deciding that I’m not getting out of bed today. Happy with my decision, I allow my eyes to close again and drift back off to the land of dreams. Gee…? A faint voice calls from far, far away. Choosing to ignore it I focus on sleep, how it cradles me in its soft, soothing arms, arms I don’t meet with that often…
“GERARD!” I jolt upwards, resulting in the smashing of my head against my brothers. Suddenly I realize the voice wasn’t that far away at all, but more like right above me. I stare at him confused. Why on earth does he want me to get up so badly, it’s not like it’s--Oh, Shit.
“Gee, we’re gonna be late for school” he says softly, knowing how much time I’ve spent dreading this very day. My head falls back down, as the tight knot in my stomach returns at an alarming rate. “Gee…it’s gonna be okay…” he coos, rubbing my forehead repeatedly “Don’t worry…you have me…” he adds tentatively. I can’t help but feel a wave of humiliation wash over me. I’m the older brother here. I’m the one that should be there for him. Not the other way around…I try and get out of bed, so tired it takes three times the normal effort. As I push myself up, I somehow succeed in shoving Mikey off my twin bed, watching him land on the wooden floor with a THUMP.
“W-wup-ps sa-sorry M-Mikey”
“Fucker” he says, glaring up at me, I can however, see the ends of his mouth curving into a smile.
“H-Hey! Re-respect f-f-for the e-elders!” We both burst out laughing, which, somehow helps with the famous knot which has now spread into my chest as well, as he pokes out his tongue and skips out of my room. I look around; multiple posters, drawings, paintings and magazine cut-outs line the walls of my small, art supply and comic book crowded room, clothes scattered everywhere…And we’ve only lived here for two weeks…I reluctantly get up, stumbling over to my mirror, where I stare defeated at my ghostly reflection. My skin is no longer a pale cream shade but deadly grey, dark purple circles under my eyes making me resemble a sleep-deprived vampire, my ebony black hair standing straight up on my head; as if I had somehow managed to receive an electrical shock while sleeping. Not that that’s impossible when sharing a bed with my brother; the kid probably holds the world record for most forks stuck in toasters…
I half walk half drag myself over to the bathroom, where I splash my face with lukewarm water, before running long spidery fingers through my hair, hoping it’ll look at least half decent. After about three minutes of me swearing at it, it finally looks acceptable, and I walk out, heading for our wooden stairs that lead down to the small but homey kitchen.
---
Mikey’s akward footsteps could be heard next to my slow, exhausted unsure ones as we walked along the paved streets, coming closer and closer to what just might be my last school…The last one till I give up and drop out. The clouds were thin, heather colored overhead, the fresh morning breeze thick with dew, which hadn’t even started to evaporate off the lawns yet. There was no trace of the sun, which honestly didn’t bother me much, but the clouds were just thin enough for it to still be fairly bright, shadows only barely eclipsed.
“It’ll be okay Gerard” Mikey whispered, as the faded brick building starts to appear ahead. I bowed my head, not having said a word in ages, not planning to do so for the whole day…
I stood there, frozen on the ground, feeling all the blood drain from my face as I stared at the reddish brown building, iron and glass door as the main entry way. I could feel my heart beat begin to slow as Mikey, puzzled, stopped and spun around, running towards me as I began to fall to the charcoal colored gravel, only to land in his lanky, shaky arms.
“M-Mikey…I c-can’t d-do the-the-this…” I choked out, as I inhaled sharply, breathing in as much air as I could.
“Yes you can…y-yes you can Gee…I know you can…” he fixed me in the eyes, his voice still shaky but his weak, innocent eyes determined. I gulped and nodded, rising quickly and almost ran through the doors, pulling Mikey by the hand.
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Frank’s POV:
I ducked into my homeroom class, dingy teal colored linoleum tiles and paneled white walls, slipping past the teacher’s empty desk and finding a seat at the back. Within a couple of minutes, the royal blue beaten door opened only to close again, revealing the man who was assigned our homeroom teacher. His slumped lean figure strolled to the front of the class, where he peered out at us over his bent spectacles, fiddling with his maroon paisley bow tie.
“The bell has--” he started, his voice cracking mid-sentence. He paused, drew in a sharp breath before clearing his throat and continuing; “It has rung, class” his crackled voice called out, still not earning any respect from students. “SILENCE!” he cleared his throat again, as a deadly silence fell over the room. He stayed there, with such a look on his face that seemed to say ‘dare-to-speak-and-I’ll-personally-mutilate-you’. “Today we--” he was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. “Yes?” the door opened slightly as someone slipped in, their ebony black hair falling over their ivory white face, a black hoodie hanging loosely on their shoulders. I felt a surge of euphoria as I realized it was a Misfits hoodie. “Ah, yes…Our new student…I believe your name is…” he strolled down his list before snapping his head back up. The boy gingerly looked up, his hazel eyes landing on me. As soon as they met mine, I felt my mouth go dry. It was him…The guy from John's office! The…angel! It was …Gerard! I could feel my hands moisten and I quickly wiped them on my jeans, looking back up at Gerard. Our teacher turned back to him “Gerard Way…right?” Gerard nodded. “Okay…well…there’s a seat in the back there, by Mr.Iero” my heart skipped a beat as my head shot up. Gerard looked up again to locate the desk, before the little blood left in his face faded. He stood there, staring at me for a good minute before managing a small, tentative smile and walked over towards me. I watched him shuffle his worn-converse clad feet before setting his bag down on his lap as he sat down, pulling out a notebook as I sat there, sucking on my silver lip ring, debating whether or not I’d embarrass myself talking to him.
“Um…hey” I tried, an awkward smile plastered to my thin, pink, chapped lips. He looked up and smiled a little, a couple of jet black hair strands falling away from his smooth, angel like face as he waved shyly. “Um…I’m Frank” he smiled again, a little more this time and he opened his notebook, shyly reaching for my pen and scribbled ‘Gerard’. I bit my lip again, not knowing exactly how to react. “So um…” he looked at me again, a soft pink flushing his cheeks as his eyes lit up, leaving me in some sort of trance. His hazel eyes were…captivating…artistic, imaginative, and now flickering with amusement as I looked away quickly, realizing I’d been staring at him like some 12 year old school girl. I could feel the prickling crimson in my cheeks as I dared to look at him again, but this time it was he who looked away, his hair shielding his face from my intrigued expression.
I walked along the long, sinister hallways that lead outside to the football field, which was now deserted as the first lunch bell rang through the school. I cut through the empty field and went around the gym, finally getting to the isolated back part of the campus, where, on the other side of a wooden fence was an extremely large parking lot for a few surrounding supermarkets. I sat down on the back steps of the gym, leaning against its cement walls, watching a few cars park through the fence and staring up at the sky, which had now darkened, blanketing everything in some sort of somber tranquility. I liked to come here, it was away from everyone; not that I would mind some company, it could get quite lonely…But nobody seemed to want of my company, so why show them I wanted theirs? I twirled a leaf between my hands as I let my mind wander back to…Gerard…the way his thin artistically creative pale smooth fingers had shyly reached for my pen, as if he was unsure or something, the way he messily scribble his name…why hadn’t he just told me? Now that I thought of it…he hadn’t spoken the whole class…not one word…But wait, why did I care? It’s not like I liked him or anything…okay, maybe he was good looking, beautiful even, but…I jumped up as I felt a cold hand on my shoulder. My mouth went dry again as I saw who it was…He stood there, his hands in his pockets and his head bowed, his pink little button nose poking out from under his tousled hair. I leaned forward in attempt to see those eyes again, those beautiful, entrancing---wait, what? Why the hell am I describing his eyes, again? Once is enough…not even...and his hands and his hair and his---Frank. Control yourself. You’re not even…or am I? Now that I think of it I haven’t--Frank, stop.
I smiled at Gerard, who stood there shifting his balance from one foot to the next, gently swaying back and forth in front of the cement stairs.
“Hey” I managed, the moistness in my mouth returning. He waved uncomfortably, waving his hands towards the stairs. I tried as hard as I could to understand, but nothing came to me.
“D-do y-you ma-ma-mind i-if I s-sit h-h-here?” he stuttered out, his voice barely audible. I nodded, grinning enthusiastically.
“So…how’s your first day at um…school?” As soon as I ask, I want to take it back. Nice going Frank. That’s all you can think to say? Apparently, it is. He just shrugs. “Yeah…I know what you mean…some of the kids here can get really bad sometimes” I say, remembering all those “incidents” where I landed in the hospital, or found myself sobbing like some idiot…Silence settled in between us as neither of us said anything, and I rocked back and forth my knees brought up to my chest. All of a sudden Gerard got up and started looking around for something, squinting as he couldn’t see it.
“Are you looking for something?” I asked, he nodded, biting his bottom lip. “Well…what is it? I can help you find it” he nodded again, and pointed towards my bag. “…My bag…?” he shook his head. “Your bag?” I tried again, this time seeing him smile eagerly as I had understood. I got up and spotted it right under the steps, bending down to pick it up. As I handed the black battered messenger bag over to him, curiosity and concern swept over me. Why hadn’t he just asked me? I’d only heard his soft, slightly high pitched voice twice…and nothing much above a whisper… He sat back down again, smiling gratefully and reached into his bag, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. I sat down beside him as he offered me one, my tattooed hands reachung in and pulling one out. I fumbled around in my hoodie pockets before pulling out my lighter and lighting both our smokes, figuring it’s be more convenient than the small book of matches he was holding. He giggled quietly, and that was it.
“Gerard…can I ask you something?” He nodded again, I gulped, not wanting my question to scare him away or anything. “How come you don’t talk?” I spoke quietly, as if I didn’t even want nature to overhear. I saw him lower his head, ebony hair falling back down to cover it, as he remained silent. Several minutes passed, and his cigarette stayed in his silky hands un-smoked, just burning silently. Suddenly, I noticed what look like a drop fall onto the pavement in between both of us. “Gerard…? Are you…crying?” he lifted his head slowly, as I felt a pang of remorse when I saw his cheeks glistening with tears. Nice going Frank. The first guy who hangs out with you at school, and the first day you manage to make him cry. I’m the biggest idiot ever, I shouldn’t even be aloud around people I--
“S-Stop” he siad sternly, as I stared at him bewildered
“What?” I asked, uncertainty in my voice.
“D-Don’t s-say th-that a-about y-yourself…y-you’re na-not a-a-an I-idiot” I continued staring at him, as suddenly I could feel my eyes widening and my cheeks reddening.
“I said that out loud?” I stammered out, mortified. I really am an idiot. I mentally slapped myself as I heard Gerard giggle again, the corners of his mouth turning up into a soft, amused smile. And before I knew it, we were both giggling wildly, two outcasts on the back of the gym steps, attempting to smoke our fags through our hysterical laughter...
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How come you don’t talk…?
[*I really hope ya liked it! Also...one or two reviews would be nice XD so... R&R? pwease! I'd really appreciate some feedback!I'll try and update sooner this time :)
oh, and for una puta mierda, if you're too lazy to google translate it, it basicly means shit. (That's how good one's spanish gets after living in Spain for about 2 years XD)
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