Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Guilty... Until Proven Innocent.
Mikey's Point of View...
(Still) Day One
Though my fuzzy memory bothered me in ways I can't quite explain, I tried not to let it bother me for the time being. There'd be plenty of time to drown in my own guilt later.
Pete and I ended up talking about non-important things the rest of that morning- our favorite types of music, favorite movies, and ex-boyfriends/ex-girlfriends.
"Actually," I confessed, "I used to like someone, a lot more than I should've. But they probably hate me now..."
"Cheer up, dude. I thought the same thing, but my boyfriend still visits every week," Pete tried to reassure me.
"Boyfriend?"
"... Is there a problem?"
"No, no, no. The person I like is a guy, too."
Pete smiled brightly. "Knew you were gonna be a good cellmate. Can't quite count the number of times I've beaten up dudes who've had issues with that."
I smiled, however it was half- volunterry and half-forced.
Gates opened down the hall, and I walked over to the bars to see if I could catch a glimpse of what was happening.
"Guards," Pete rolled his eyes. "Wonder what I've done this time."
Footsteps thumped down the hallway of cells, and other prisoners shouted and yelled curses as it occured.
The guard stopped in front of our cell, and unlocked it. He opened it the tiniest bit, and stated neuterally, "You both have a visitor."
"Yay!" Pete chirped happily, but when the guard looked at hime questioningly he returned his expression to the Look-At-Me-Wrong-Again-I'll-Beat-The-Shit-Outta-You face.
We allowed the guard to handcuff us, and finaly chain us together at the feet. I hoped Pete wouldn't make a dart for it (It sounded like he'd been here for a long time to know that won't work, but you never know), because I was in no mood to run along after him.
We were lead down several hallways and corridors, before finally stopping to enter an open room with multiple doors along the back 3 walls. A lady at a desk up front filed her nails, clearly bored. "Wentz, Room 3. Way, Room 4." I then noticed the doors were marked by room.
The guard led us both to room 3, before removing the chains locking Pete and I's feet together. He opened the door for Pete, who walked in smiling sweetly at the guard. The guard shut the door before turning to me and doing the same.
As soon as the door shut, I wanted to escape. Anything but face this. Not now, I'm not ready to be yelled at. Or be critisized.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ray's Point of View...
Mikey's expression changed from content to uncomfortable in matter of miliseconds once he saw me. Ouch.
"Mikey-"
"I don't want to talk right now, Ray."
"Fine, don't then. Sit down and listen to me talk instead," I told him, gesturing to the chair across from me on the other side of the table.
It took him a moment of contemplating, but finally he sat down. He put his handcuff hands on the table, and looked down, avoiding looking me in the eye.
"Just listen for a minute, okay?" I asked him, perfectly willing to leave if he objected. He nodded, but slowly. Good enough for me.
"I don't know what exactly to say," I started. "But, I know you're innocent." To this, Mikey shook his head furiously. "You're not innocent?" I prompted, wanting to hear what he'd say.
"I killed them."
"Why is that?" I asked, not taking him seriously at all.
Mikey was silenced for a moment. "Why do you even care?" He scoffed.
I reached on of my hands out and put it on his comfortingly for a moment. "Because I care about you. And I'm not going to let you die here."
"But why do you still care if I killed your best friend?" he asked.
"Because I know you're being framed." Mikey didn't have anything to reply to this. "I'm going to prove you're inncocent, but I need your help."
"Don't waste your time. I'm as guilty as the devil," Mikey said sadly.
"Why do you sound so upset when you tell me you killed them?" I asked. "If you're a killer, you should have a hold on these emotions by now."
"Maybe I feel guitly? Did you ever think of that?" he spat.
"Did you ever think that maybe you're feeling guilty because you couldn't stop them from dying, and not because you killed them?" I asked, my voice raised. I really wasn't trying to upset him, but I knew this would be the only way I'd get his attention.
Mikey looked down again, but I caught a glimpse of the tears in his eyes.
"Do you remember anything that could prove that you killed them?" I asked gently, not wanting to disturb him anymore than I needed to.
The next minute seemed like ages. But finally, Mikey slowly shook his head no.
"You're being framed Mikey," I told him. "No matter what your mind is telling you right now, think about it- you loved Gerard, and Frank. You'd put yourself in harm's way if it meant they'd be safe."
Mikey didn't try to hold his tears back. They fell down his face freely as he remained looking down at the floor. "Gerard would be disgusted with me if he were here."
I shook my head. "No he wouldn't, if you helped me find who did this to him. What do you remember from that night?"
Mikey finally looked me in the eyes. "Frank... he called me, asked me to come over. He sounded worried, so I left immediately and went there," Mikey recalled. "When I got there..." he sighed frustratedly.
"Don't stress yourself. You'll remember eventually. Just think about what happened next, focus," I encouraged him.
Mikey did exactly what I'd asked. "Frank explained he was worried about Gerard. He had the late shift that night, and by the time he got home, Gerard wasn't back from his shift, which had ended hours before. I-I can't remember much after that right now, but... the journal!" Mikey gasped.
"What about a journal?" I pressed.
"Frank said something about a journal. I distinctly remember him saying something about it before my mind goes blank," Mikey informed me.
"Do you know where it is?" I asked.
"In Gerard's room- the basement."
"Anything else you remember right now?"
"No."
"Thank you, Mikey," I smiled. I got up and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to set things straight. In the mean time, be careful."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
R+R? :)
(Still) Day One
Though my fuzzy memory bothered me in ways I can't quite explain, I tried not to let it bother me for the time being. There'd be plenty of time to drown in my own guilt later.
Pete and I ended up talking about non-important things the rest of that morning- our favorite types of music, favorite movies, and ex-boyfriends/ex-girlfriends.
"Actually," I confessed, "I used to like someone, a lot more than I should've. But they probably hate me now..."
"Cheer up, dude. I thought the same thing, but my boyfriend still visits every week," Pete tried to reassure me.
"Boyfriend?"
"... Is there a problem?"
"No, no, no. The person I like is a guy, too."
Pete smiled brightly. "Knew you were gonna be a good cellmate. Can't quite count the number of times I've beaten up dudes who've had issues with that."
I smiled, however it was half- volunterry and half-forced.
Gates opened down the hall, and I walked over to the bars to see if I could catch a glimpse of what was happening.
"Guards," Pete rolled his eyes. "Wonder what I've done this time."
Footsteps thumped down the hallway of cells, and other prisoners shouted and yelled curses as it occured.
The guard stopped in front of our cell, and unlocked it. He opened it the tiniest bit, and stated neuterally, "You both have a visitor."
"Yay!" Pete chirped happily, but when the guard looked at hime questioningly he returned his expression to the Look-At-Me-Wrong-Again-I'll-Beat-The-Shit-Outta-You face.
We allowed the guard to handcuff us, and finaly chain us together at the feet. I hoped Pete wouldn't make a dart for it (It sounded like he'd been here for a long time to know that won't work, but you never know), because I was in no mood to run along after him.
We were lead down several hallways and corridors, before finally stopping to enter an open room with multiple doors along the back 3 walls. A lady at a desk up front filed her nails, clearly bored. "Wentz, Room 3. Way, Room 4." I then noticed the doors were marked by room.
The guard led us both to room 3, before removing the chains locking Pete and I's feet together. He opened the door for Pete, who walked in smiling sweetly at the guard. The guard shut the door before turning to me and doing the same.
As soon as the door shut, I wanted to escape. Anything but face this. Not now, I'm not ready to be yelled at. Or be critisized.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ray's Point of View...
Mikey's expression changed from content to uncomfortable in matter of miliseconds once he saw me. Ouch.
"Mikey-"
"I don't want to talk right now, Ray."
"Fine, don't then. Sit down and listen to me talk instead," I told him, gesturing to the chair across from me on the other side of the table.
It took him a moment of contemplating, but finally he sat down. He put his handcuff hands on the table, and looked down, avoiding looking me in the eye.
"Just listen for a minute, okay?" I asked him, perfectly willing to leave if he objected. He nodded, but slowly. Good enough for me.
"I don't know what exactly to say," I started. "But, I know you're innocent." To this, Mikey shook his head furiously. "You're not innocent?" I prompted, wanting to hear what he'd say.
"I killed them."
"Why is that?" I asked, not taking him seriously at all.
Mikey was silenced for a moment. "Why do you even care?" He scoffed.
I reached on of my hands out and put it on his comfortingly for a moment. "Because I care about you. And I'm not going to let you die here."
"But why do you still care if I killed your best friend?" he asked.
"Because I know you're being framed." Mikey didn't have anything to reply to this. "I'm going to prove you're inncocent, but I need your help."
"Don't waste your time. I'm as guilty as the devil," Mikey said sadly.
"Why do you sound so upset when you tell me you killed them?" I asked. "If you're a killer, you should have a hold on these emotions by now."
"Maybe I feel guitly? Did you ever think of that?" he spat.
"Did you ever think that maybe you're feeling guilty because you couldn't stop them from dying, and not because you killed them?" I asked, my voice raised. I really wasn't trying to upset him, but I knew this would be the only way I'd get his attention.
Mikey looked down again, but I caught a glimpse of the tears in his eyes.
"Do you remember anything that could prove that you killed them?" I asked gently, not wanting to disturb him anymore than I needed to.
The next minute seemed like ages. But finally, Mikey slowly shook his head no.
"You're being framed Mikey," I told him. "No matter what your mind is telling you right now, think about it- you loved Gerard, and Frank. You'd put yourself in harm's way if it meant they'd be safe."
Mikey didn't try to hold his tears back. They fell down his face freely as he remained looking down at the floor. "Gerard would be disgusted with me if he were here."
I shook my head. "No he wouldn't, if you helped me find who did this to him. What do you remember from that night?"
Mikey finally looked me in the eyes. "Frank... he called me, asked me to come over. He sounded worried, so I left immediately and went there," Mikey recalled. "When I got there..." he sighed frustratedly.
"Don't stress yourself. You'll remember eventually. Just think about what happened next, focus," I encouraged him.
Mikey did exactly what I'd asked. "Frank explained he was worried about Gerard. He had the late shift that night, and by the time he got home, Gerard wasn't back from his shift, which had ended hours before. I-I can't remember much after that right now, but... the journal!" Mikey gasped.
"What about a journal?" I pressed.
"Frank said something about a journal. I distinctly remember him saying something about it before my mind goes blank," Mikey informed me.
"Do you know where it is?" I asked.
"In Gerard's room- the basement."
"Anything else you remember right now?"
"No."
"Thank you, Mikey," I smiled. I got up and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to set things straight. In the mean time, be careful."
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R+R? :)
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