Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > 100 Ways To Torture Gerard Way
15, Solitary Confinement
5 reviews"In fact, the room was so small, there was no room for him to move at all."
5Original
15. Solitary Confinement
When Gerard woke up next, the first thing he noticed was that his leg appeared to be slightly touching a wall. This was unusual, as his bed was nowhere near any walls. He blinked open his eyes and his surroundings came more into focus.
He had been moved.
Panic surged through him immediately.
He was not on his bed, but instead curled up on a cold stone floor. The reason he was curled up was the fact that this new room had no space for him to stretch his mangled legs. In fact, the room was so small, there was no room for him to move at all.
He looked up and saw the roof was very low, nearly touching his head. There was a very small, dim light in the corner, but that was all that was there.
It was like someone had placed him in a box.
Or a coffin.
It was a placebo effect really. First he felt as though he couldn't breathe. Then he felt like the room was somehow getting smaller, like the walls were closing in more and more. He tried to kick at them but his legs were broken and useless. He tried to claw around but he had no nails. He was helpless.
His own smell filled his lungs. He hadn't been able to shower nor had anyone bathed him in what must have been at least a month by now. Gerard always had body odor problems. Even if it was his own smell, it stunk horribly.
The light was making it hot. He was drenched in his own sweat.
At some point he just tried screaming at the walls. Maybe he was somewhere new, somewhere where people might help him.
Or what if it was the opposite --- what if they had taken him somewhere more secluded? What if they had buried him underground? Were they just going to leave him here to rot?
What must have been hours passed. He had to urinate and it eventually spilled out, as he was unable to hold it any longer. It mixed with the sweat, and the smell was unbearable as he was forced to sit in the combination of the two.
He stayed in there with no sound or sign of anyone else coming for him. The walls were getting smaller. He did not have the strength to break out. After a while, he just started banging his head against the wall, seeing if maybe it would crack open.
Eventually something did emit a cracking noise, but as he felt the blood running down his face, he realized with disappointment that it was his own skull he had broken instead.
~
Next chapter: "They all, uh, they started biting and sucking. And trying to feed from me, trying to enter my belly...and some pushed large needles into my veins..."
When Gerard woke up next, the first thing he noticed was that his leg appeared to be slightly touching a wall. This was unusual, as his bed was nowhere near any walls. He blinked open his eyes and his surroundings came more into focus.
He had been moved.
Panic surged through him immediately.
He was not on his bed, but instead curled up on a cold stone floor. The reason he was curled up was the fact that this new room had no space for him to stretch his mangled legs. In fact, the room was so small, there was no room for him to move at all.
He looked up and saw the roof was very low, nearly touching his head. There was a very small, dim light in the corner, but that was all that was there.
It was like someone had placed him in a box.
Or a coffin.
It was a placebo effect really. First he felt as though he couldn't breathe. Then he felt like the room was somehow getting smaller, like the walls were closing in more and more. He tried to kick at them but his legs were broken and useless. He tried to claw around but he had no nails. He was helpless.
His own smell filled his lungs. He hadn't been able to shower nor had anyone bathed him in what must have been at least a month by now. Gerard always had body odor problems. Even if it was his own smell, it stunk horribly.
The light was making it hot. He was drenched in his own sweat.
At some point he just tried screaming at the walls. Maybe he was somewhere new, somewhere where people might help him.
Or what if it was the opposite --- what if they had taken him somewhere more secluded? What if they had buried him underground? Were they just going to leave him here to rot?
What must have been hours passed. He had to urinate and it eventually spilled out, as he was unable to hold it any longer. It mixed with the sweat, and the smell was unbearable as he was forced to sit in the combination of the two.
He stayed in there with no sound or sign of anyone else coming for him. The walls were getting smaller. He did not have the strength to break out. After a while, he just started banging his head against the wall, seeing if maybe it would crack open.
Eventually something did emit a cracking noise, but as he felt the blood running down his face, he realized with disappointment that it was his own skull he had broken instead.
~
Next chapter: "They all, uh, they started biting and sucking. And trying to feed from me, trying to enter my belly...and some pushed large needles into my veins..."
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