Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Our Time Is Running Out
Gerard slammed the door to his scruffy apartment closed and dragged the bleeding man over to the mattress placed in the main room. A puff of dust was spewed out of the dirty fabric as the body of the unconscious man was dropped on it.
Gerard raked his sweaty hair with his hands and stared at the body in disbelief. The damp tufts of hair being removed from his anxious face for a while to then return as soon as Gerard's hand dropped to his sides.
The panic was impossible to avoid. How the hell am I supposed to act? he thought and felt how his whole body was shaking. Forced breaths, which were trying to sound calm, escaped his chapped lips.
Gerard looked at the man lying on the mattress. So fragile, vulnerable and utterly in need of Gerard's help. The man's lips were trembling like he knew that someone was watching him fight for his life.
Gerard knew that he had to act quickly. It was a matter of whether or not the man would survive. Gerard knelt down next to the mattress and placed his hand on the tattooed man's knee, right below the injury.
He inhaled sharply and started investigating the wound. It was impossible to really see anything as the tattooed man's pants and boxers had got stuck in the wound. The fabric was wet of both blood, goo and sweat. Gerard felt like throwing up as he saw, and smelled, the awfulness.
He jolted back up on his feet and ran towards the kitchen area of the apartment. The apartment didn't have a first-aid kit so Gerard had to use his smarts and be creative. He scanned the dirty shelves in the kitchen and was happy to find a pair of scissors, an old cloth in a weird colour and a bottle which he thought had vodka in it. He then remembered that he had strips of bandages in the bathroom and went to get them.
Gerard rushed back to the unconscious boy and got down on his knees next to him. The pair of pants covering the man's legs looked nice but had to be removed. Gerard used the scissors and with a couple of snips he had removed the pants. He had believed that it would be enough but it wasn't.
Still the nasty boxers covering the man's holiest parts was in the way for Gerard. The man looked at the boxers for a moment. He felt very awkward as he let the blades of the scissors shred, the last piece of clothing on the unconscious man's lower half, to pieces too.
Gerard felt his cheeks turning bright red. It was hard for him to look away as he saw something so taboo right in front of him. To at least show the stranger some respect he decided to tear a piece of the mattress off and place it over his sleeping member.
Then it was time to turn his full attention towards the wound. It was deep, like someone with incredible arm strength had slashed it with a sharp knife. Gerard shuddered. The vodka, cloth and bandages was just waiting to serve their purpose.
Gerard grabbed the vodka and the cloth, hands shaking badly. He turned the bottle and let a couple of drops of the alcohol soak into the cloth and then lowered it down to the wound. With easy strokes the cloth played over the opening of the wound. Gerard was happy that the man wasn't awake. The pain would be unbearable.
When Gerard figured that his work was done, at least for then, he wrapped the strips of bandages around the leg and fastened it with a safety pin. He then got up to his feet. All he could do was to wait. Maybe the man would recover, maybe he wouldn't.
Gerard paced the room with his arms resting on his back. The pale knuckles a contrast to his otherwise so flushed skin.
Back and forth. Back and forth. Like the pendulum of an antique clock.
The tattooed man laid on Gerard's filthy mattress, breathing heavily and occasionally moving his limbs. The white bandage wrapped around his leg looked quite professional and made Gerard feel so proud of himself. Mr. Tattoo was still unconscious but now showed signs of life. That both concerned and made Gerard happy. He felt like a healer and a devil.
Who was he to save someones life without asking for permission?
The hours passed and Gerard kept walking around the apartment like a caged animal, only taking a quick break to gnaw a corner off his newly purchased candy bar. Then a noise startled him. It sounded like a groan.
Gerard hurried to get to the mattress which the slightly younger man was lying on. His neck was stretched out so Gerard could see the scorpion on it. Agonized moans and sounds of complaint kept escaping his mouth.
Gerard crouched down and put a shaky hand on top of the noisy man's shoulder. The man's eyes then snapped open and for the first time Gerard could see the liveliest pair of hazel eyes in the world looking back at him.
Gerard raked his sweaty hair with his hands and stared at the body in disbelief. The damp tufts of hair being removed from his anxious face for a while to then return as soon as Gerard's hand dropped to his sides.
The panic was impossible to avoid. How the hell am I supposed to act? he thought and felt how his whole body was shaking. Forced breaths, which were trying to sound calm, escaped his chapped lips.
Gerard looked at the man lying on the mattress. So fragile, vulnerable and utterly in need of Gerard's help. The man's lips were trembling like he knew that someone was watching him fight for his life.
Gerard knew that he had to act quickly. It was a matter of whether or not the man would survive. Gerard knelt down next to the mattress and placed his hand on the tattooed man's knee, right below the injury.
He inhaled sharply and started investigating the wound. It was impossible to really see anything as the tattooed man's pants and boxers had got stuck in the wound. The fabric was wet of both blood, goo and sweat. Gerard felt like throwing up as he saw, and smelled, the awfulness.
He jolted back up on his feet and ran towards the kitchen area of the apartment. The apartment didn't have a first-aid kit so Gerard had to use his smarts and be creative. He scanned the dirty shelves in the kitchen and was happy to find a pair of scissors, an old cloth in a weird colour and a bottle which he thought had vodka in it. He then remembered that he had strips of bandages in the bathroom and went to get them.
Gerard rushed back to the unconscious boy and got down on his knees next to him. The pair of pants covering the man's legs looked nice but had to be removed. Gerard used the scissors and with a couple of snips he had removed the pants. He had believed that it would be enough but it wasn't.
Still the nasty boxers covering the man's holiest parts was in the way for Gerard. The man looked at the boxers for a moment. He felt very awkward as he let the blades of the scissors shred, the last piece of clothing on the unconscious man's lower half, to pieces too.
Gerard felt his cheeks turning bright red. It was hard for him to look away as he saw something so taboo right in front of him. To at least show the stranger some respect he decided to tear a piece of the mattress off and place it over his sleeping member.
Then it was time to turn his full attention towards the wound. It was deep, like someone with incredible arm strength had slashed it with a sharp knife. Gerard shuddered. The vodka, cloth and bandages was just waiting to serve their purpose.
Gerard grabbed the vodka and the cloth, hands shaking badly. He turned the bottle and let a couple of drops of the alcohol soak into the cloth and then lowered it down to the wound. With easy strokes the cloth played over the opening of the wound. Gerard was happy that the man wasn't awake. The pain would be unbearable.
When Gerard figured that his work was done, at least for then, he wrapped the strips of bandages around the leg and fastened it with a safety pin. He then got up to his feet. All he could do was to wait. Maybe the man would recover, maybe he wouldn't.
Gerard paced the room with his arms resting on his back. The pale knuckles a contrast to his otherwise so flushed skin.
Back and forth. Back and forth. Like the pendulum of an antique clock.
The tattooed man laid on Gerard's filthy mattress, breathing heavily and occasionally moving his limbs. The white bandage wrapped around his leg looked quite professional and made Gerard feel so proud of himself. Mr. Tattoo was still unconscious but now showed signs of life. That both concerned and made Gerard happy. He felt like a healer and a devil.
Who was he to save someones life without asking for permission?
The hours passed and Gerard kept walking around the apartment like a caged animal, only taking a quick break to gnaw a corner off his newly purchased candy bar. Then a noise startled him. It sounded like a groan.
Gerard hurried to get to the mattress which the slightly younger man was lying on. His neck was stretched out so Gerard could see the scorpion on it. Agonized moans and sounds of complaint kept escaping his mouth.
Gerard crouched down and put a shaky hand on top of the noisy man's shoulder. The man's eyes then snapped open and for the first time Gerard could see the liveliest pair of hazel eyes in the world looking back at him.
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