Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Gerard's POV
She fascinated me. I didn’t understand why, but I was truly fascinated by her. I’d heard from people around town that her name was Isla and that she’d been in jail for manslaughter. I’d always found horror movies interesting, but I’d obviously never known a real killer before. Her shoulder length dark brown hair looked freshly cut and her hazel eyes looked like gemstones in the sun. I couldn’t imagine her being a killer and I wouldn’t’ have been so fascinated with her if I hadn’t been so sure that I knew her. She seemed strangely familiar. I’d seen her around town wearing black skinny jeans and red converse with a blood red t-shirt that showered of the sleeves of tattoos. I couldn’t see all of her inked art but I could make out a cemetery with a dead tree and some skeletons.
I kept seeing her. She never seemed to notice me. Not that I wanted to be noticed… I wanted to find out more about her, so I went to my local library and performed some research. I read the top line; she’d killed her boyfriend, Gerard Way. I felt scared. Gerard was my first name. What if she wanted to kill me too? I scrolled down the screen, discovering that she’d only been 18 when she’d been thrown into jail 9 years before. I scrolled down again and saw a photo of her victim. But her victim was familiar. Too familiar.
He was me.
She fascinated me. I didn’t understand why, but I was truly fascinated by her. I’d heard from people around town that her name was Isla and that she’d been in jail for manslaughter. I’d always found horror movies interesting, but I’d obviously never known a real killer before. Her shoulder length dark brown hair looked freshly cut and her hazel eyes looked like gemstones in the sun. I couldn’t imagine her being a killer and I wouldn’t’ have been so fascinated with her if I hadn’t been so sure that I knew her. She seemed strangely familiar. I’d seen her around town wearing black skinny jeans and red converse with a blood red t-shirt that showered of the sleeves of tattoos. I couldn’t see all of her inked art but I could make out a cemetery with a dead tree and some skeletons.
I kept seeing her. She never seemed to notice me. Not that I wanted to be noticed… I wanted to find out more about her, so I went to my local library and performed some research. I read the top line; she’d killed her boyfriend, Gerard Way. I felt scared. Gerard was my first name. What if she wanted to kill me too? I scrolled down the screen, discovering that she’d only been 18 when she’d been thrown into jail 9 years before. I scrolled down again and saw a photo of her victim. But her victim was familiar. Too familiar.
He was me.
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