Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Heaven Help Us
Heaven Help Us
1 reviewFrank Iero is a normal, catholic teen, living in a town haunted by the mysterious deaths of two brothers. But when he meets Gerard, he begins to question everything he knows...
2Original
NOTE: I know I said I wouldn`t put a new story up till I finish my others, but I couldn`t sleep. I reall need some opinions on this, should I write more? It could possibly turn into a Frerard, but at this point in time I don`t know. Hope you like it,
XOXODakota
Gerard’s pov.
Everything was black-the air surrounding my burning body as I fell, even the night sky way up above me was black. Not a single star was in sight, and the thin sliver of a moon had vanished behind clouds I was certain contained an icy rain. Echoing in my head are the tortured screams, some of which were my own, even though I had promised myself I wouldn’t, told myself I was stronger than that. I wasn’t. Mikey was stronger than I was, my own younger brother who loathed me with a passion. It hadn’t always been that way of course. But that s all in the past now, I could do nothing about it. Not now, it was far too late.
I was on fire; the searing pain coming from the open, bleeding gashes on my pale back was almost unbearable. The bruises that covered my pale body were turning purple and black in places. My head was still dripping with blood, whether it was fresh or not I didn’t know. To put it simply, I was a mess, both mentally and physically.
Flashback.
“Guilty.” His usually warm, hazel eyes so similar to mine show no recognition, no emotion as he reads the verdict aloud. My heart sinks, he was my last hope. Not a very big one, but still. It was hope. Mama said you should always have hope. But what is hope gonna do to save me now? I could do nothing but accept my fate.
It would soon be over now, and for that I was grateful at least. Surely the punishment could be no worse than this endless waiting, this fear, this pointless hope. How wrong I was. It was worse. Much, much worse.
They came at me like animals, cannibal, and possessed animals with a craving for flesh and blood. MY flesh and blood. Their nails rip at me, tearing away small chunks of white flesh leaving gaping, gushing wounds on my body which was turning black and blue in several places due to their constant, heavy blows. I try and fight them off, but there were far too many, and I was weak-most of my power had been drained earlier. Anyway, fighting back only made them angry and more determined to cause me as much agonising pain as possible. So I just they there in pool of crimson, accepting my punishment. I knew I had no other choice.
One of them on the outskirts of the gang, a young, blonde haired child watches horrified, tears spilling down her rosy cheeks. I feel sorry for her, having died so young and then having to see this. I wish I could smile to let her know I was okay, but the truth was that I wasn’t. Far from it in fact.
“STOP!” The little girl yells, and it shocks me how much authority there is in her voice. It shocks everyone else as well, and they stop for a moment, but I can’t not even sit up or try to escape, I haven’t the energy.
“The child is right.” A set of eyes I recognise well turn on me, glaring. Unlike before there is emotion, but only one. Pure hatred. I try to force myself not to think back on days when we were both children, how he would look at me with such adoration in his eyes. He looked up to me then, actually wanted to be around me. He wasn’t ashamed to have the same blood running in his veins.
I am brought out of my deep, rather saddening thoughts when I feel something slice through the snowy wings attached to my back. I thought the pain before when I was being beaten was bad, but this made that feel like a stubbed toe, or a very small headache. Whoever was holding the dagger was doing a very bad job of cutting off my wings, they were hacking unmercifully at the feathers, enjoying watching me wither on the ground in agony. I watch, tears filling my eyes and dripping down my bloody cheeks, as the snowy feathers drop to the ground.
I black out before they are done, and the empty darkness is a welcome escape from the pain. I know how stupid it sounds, but I actually consider praying for it to all end, for Mikey to forgive me, to love me again. Then I think about it some more. God wouldn’t listen to me, not anymore. I was nothing but a sinner. I was a sinner.
NOTE (Again) What did you think? So, Gerard`s an angel/ fallen angel. Just thought I`d tell ya in case you`re unfamiliar with them. Why? I`m mental and for halloween me and my best friend (without knowing what the other was) dressed up as an angel (Her) and a fallen angel (me) Sorry for making Mikey kinda evil in this, there`s a reason, I just don`t know what yet. So, anyway, hope it was okay, XOXODakota
XOXODakota
Gerard’s pov.
Everything was black-the air surrounding my burning body as I fell, even the night sky way up above me was black. Not a single star was in sight, and the thin sliver of a moon had vanished behind clouds I was certain contained an icy rain. Echoing in my head are the tortured screams, some of which were my own, even though I had promised myself I wouldn’t, told myself I was stronger than that. I wasn’t. Mikey was stronger than I was, my own younger brother who loathed me with a passion. It hadn’t always been that way of course. But that s all in the past now, I could do nothing about it. Not now, it was far too late.
I was on fire; the searing pain coming from the open, bleeding gashes on my pale back was almost unbearable. The bruises that covered my pale body were turning purple and black in places. My head was still dripping with blood, whether it was fresh or not I didn’t know. To put it simply, I was a mess, both mentally and physically.
Flashback.
“Guilty.” His usually warm, hazel eyes so similar to mine show no recognition, no emotion as he reads the verdict aloud. My heart sinks, he was my last hope. Not a very big one, but still. It was hope. Mama said you should always have hope. But what is hope gonna do to save me now? I could do nothing but accept my fate.
It would soon be over now, and for that I was grateful at least. Surely the punishment could be no worse than this endless waiting, this fear, this pointless hope. How wrong I was. It was worse. Much, much worse.
They came at me like animals, cannibal, and possessed animals with a craving for flesh and blood. MY flesh and blood. Their nails rip at me, tearing away small chunks of white flesh leaving gaping, gushing wounds on my body which was turning black and blue in several places due to their constant, heavy blows. I try and fight them off, but there were far too many, and I was weak-most of my power had been drained earlier. Anyway, fighting back only made them angry and more determined to cause me as much agonising pain as possible. So I just they there in pool of crimson, accepting my punishment. I knew I had no other choice.
One of them on the outskirts of the gang, a young, blonde haired child watches horrified, tears spilling down her rosy cheeks. I feel sorry for her, having died so young and then having to see this. I wish I could smile to let her know I was okay, but the truth was that I wasn’t. Far from it in fact.
“STOP!” The little girl yells, and it shocks me how much authority there is in her voice. It shocks everyone else as well, and they stop for a moment, but I can’t not even sit up or try to escape, I haven’t the energy.
“The child is right.” A set of eyes I recognise well turn on me, glaring. Unlike before there is emotion, but only one. Pure hatred. I try to force myself not to think back on days when we were both children, how he would look at me with such adoration in his eyes. He looked up to me then, actually wanted to be around me. He wasn’t ashamed to have the same blood running in his veins.
I am brought out of my deep, rather saddening thoughts when I feel something slice through the snowy wings attached to my back. I thought the pain before when I was being beaten was bad, but this made that feel like a stubbed toe, or a very small headache. Whoever was holding the dagger was doing a very bad job of cutting off my wings, they were hacking unmercifully at the feathers, enjoying watching me wither on the ground in agony. I watch, tears filling my eyes and dripping down my bloody cheeks, as the snowy feathers drop to the ground.
I black out before they are done, and the empty darkness is a welcome escape from the pain. I know how stupid it sounds, but I actually consider praying for it to all end, for Mikey to forgive me, to love me again. Then I think about it some more. God wouldn’t listen to me, not anymore. I was nothing but a sinner. I was a sinner.
NOTE (Again) What did you think? So, Gerard`s an angel/ fallen angel. Just thought I`d tell ya in case you`re unfamiliar with them. Why? I`m mental and for halloween me and my best friend (without knowing what the other was) dressed up as an angel (Her) and a fallen angel (me) Sorry for making Mikey kinda evil in this, there`s a reason, I just don`t know what yet. So, anyway, hope it was okay, XOXODakota
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