Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Some Hearts
Bam. My knuckles make contact with the cream coloured wall of my living room, a light pain erupting in them.
Bam. More pain, moving from my knuckles up to my wrist, making me growl slightly.
Bam. An almost unbearable sensation shoots up my arm causing me to flinch wondering if this is the kind of pain Lauren felt.
Of course she’s shown up on my door step before battered and bruised up. Although none of this is new I still haven’t figured out a sufficient way to deal. I can’t even look at her. My best friend, curled in the fetal position on my couch because some dumb arse has to beat her to get off.
A bag of ice hits the carpeted floor with a light sloshing sound. Thank God Gerard is here and he can handle things like this. I’d be helpless in a situation like this.
Painstakingly slow I turn my body, allowing myself to look over a broken Lauren. Blinking my watery eyes a few times I try to force my brain to comprehend what is laid out in front of me. Never has it been this terrible.
Purple, blue, black, green, yellow, I don’t think there is a single area on this girl’s body that isn’t covered in some kind of bruise. Although her eyes are closed her shallow breathing lets me know she isn’t dead. This is a good thing.
Watching in mute fascination as Gerard applies more ice to a particularly bad bruise covering her left side; I wonder how he manages to stay so composed. Yet again I turn and ram my fist into the wall causing my knuckles to split open, ruby red blood trickling down the off white wall.
As Gee reaches to move the bag full of ice, frightened green eyes lock with his and her tiny body is suddenly curled even tighter around itself. God I hate that dick that is Lauren's boyfriend. Again I hit the wall this time my entire hand begins to tingle. Untrusting eyes follow Gerard as he stands, holding the dripping bag of ice by his side. She’s obviously not up for human contact. I completely get it.
“Oh Lauren,” I say, walking with caution over to her. The last thing I want is for her to distrust me. Fighting with myself and the urge to pull her into the tightest hug imaginable I stand there for a second, eventually taking a seat on the ground. I’ll let her come to me. Almost instantly our eyes lock, bony fingers intertwining with mine.
“I hurt Frankie,” those are the first words I’ve ever heard this broken little bird chirp in such a long time. A single tear slides down my face. Stupid. I’m supposed to be strong and protective not a wimp crying on the floor. Man up Frank. Lauren needs you right now.
“Shh,” Gerard coos. “It’ll be alright, Frank and I are gonna take care of you.”
Accusing green eyes flick quickly to his face then to the ice bag that is now steadily letting out icy water, causing a wet spot to form on the wood floor. A thin hand reaches out for the watery ice, pressing it to the start of a bruise around her eye. That one will be the hardest to cover.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Lauren be nice, that’s Gerard, he’s my friend,” I explain, my hand being brought up to her cheek. My heart flutters just a little.
Even in her broken and beaten state Lauren in the most beautiful girl I know. She’s got this silent confidence about her that comes out at the best of times. Her eyes are always bright, no matter how dead she must feel inside. And God, that smile, it could light up an entire room yet in almost three years I’ve only seen it a handful of times. More tears stream down my face. I don’t even make a move to wipe them away.
“Frankie don’t be upset. It really is my fault. I’m stupid enough to go back to him even after he does stuff like this to me,” Lauren says quietly, her voice barely audible above the ceiling fan that continues to circle round and round creating a nice current of air.
Anger rises within me, like red flames of a fire, licking at my brain, making it hard to think proper. Clamping down on my lip I force myself to not yell at her for the stupid comment she just managed to let spew from her pretty little mouth. How the hell could she think this was her fault? Obviously Lauren, smart, pretty, brave, sarcastic, Lauren doesn’t deserve this shit. Breathing in and out slowly I manage to clear my vision. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.
“Lauren, darling, you don’t deserve any of the beatings Brice dishes out. He’s an arse. Don’t you ever think, even for a second that you are at fault,” I whisper hoping she understands.
A fierce beating on the door causes all of us to stop, frozen like ice, eyes glued to the open front window. With almost animal like reflexes Gerard is pulling the blinds shut, latching the chain on my wooden door. There is only one person who would be paying a visit to Gerard and me at this time of the day and this person’s name has us all shaking in our skin.
Another vicious beating on the door and attack of the bell sends Lauren into a fit of tears. Her small frame is convulsing almost manically and not even Gerard’s soft words seem to be able to calm her. Brice has instilled fear in the girl I care so deeply about as well as in myself and by the looks of it Gee too.
What the hell would we do if he got in? Both myself, 5’4, well built but with little fighting skills, Gerard, tall and lanky and Lauren, bruised and frightened out of her mind, could not hold him back.
I remember back to the first time Lauren sought refuge from her abusive boyfriend at my house. Although at the time she had begged and pleaded for me not to contact the police she did tell me that if he tried to break in I should call. I suppose now is a wonderful time to pick up the phone and get some back up.
Fumbling with the buttons I manage to get the numbers in, saying silent prayers until a voice on the other end sounds causing me to let out a shaky sigh of relief. I don’t think I’ve ever been this frightened in my entire life.
“Hello, yes, this is Frank Iero, I live at 113 Belmount. Yes, there is someone trying to break in. No I am not alone, my friend Gerard Way and Lauren Meirs are here with me. Of course I know the man trying to break in, he’s Lauren’s abusive boyfriend,” I quickly get out before the line goes dead.
Fifteen minutes, what police take fifteen minutes to get to a house that is just down the block from the station? What if someone was trying to kill us, all three of us would be dead by the time they finally arrived.
Fists latch onto my maroon polo shirt, a face buried into my chest. Wrapping my arms around Lauren I try and comfort her best I can in a situation like this. Heaven forbid I tell her everything will be alright. She doesn’t deserve to be lied to. In a stupid an extremely desperate attempt to cause all the fear to go away…I kiss her.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Bam. More pain, moving from my knuckles up to my wrist, making me growl slightly.
Bam. An almost unbearable sensation shoots up my arm causing me to flinch wondering if this is the kind of pain Lauren felt.
Of course she’s shown up on my door step before battered and bruised up. Although none of this is new I still haven’t figured out a sufficient way to deal. I can’t even look at her. My best friend, curled in the fetal position on my couch because some dumb arse has to beat her to get off.
A bag of ice hits the carpeted floor with a light sloshing sound. Thank God Gerard is here and he can handle things like this. I’d be helpless in a situation like this.
Painstakingly slow I turn my body, allowing myself to look over a broken Lauren. Blinking my watery eyes a few times I try to force my brain to comprehend what is laid out in front of me. Never has it been this terrible.
Purple, blue, black, green, yellow, I don’t think there is a single area on this girl’s body that isn’t covered in some kind of bruise. Although her eyes are closed her shallow breathing lets me know she isn’t dead. This is a good thing.
Watching in mute fascination as Gerard applies more ice to a particularly bad bruise covering her left side; I wonder how he manages to stay so composed. Yet again I turn and ram my fist into the wall causing my knuckles to split open, ruby red blood trickling down the off white wall.
As Gee reaches to move the bag full of ice, frightened green eyes lock with his and her tiny body is suddenly curled even tighter around itself. God I hate that dick that is Lauren's boyfriend. Again I hit the wall this time my entire hand begins to tingle. Untrusting eyes follow Gerard as he stands, holding the dripping bag of ice by his side. She’s obviously not up for human contact. I completely get it.
“Oh Lauren,” I say, walking with caution over to her. The last thing I want is for her to distrust me. Fighting with myself and the urge to pull her into the tightest hug imaginable I stand there for a second, eventually taking a seat on the ground. I’ll let her come to me. Almost instantly our eyes lock, bony fingers intertwining with mine.
“I hurt Frankie,” those are the first words I’ve ever heard this broken little bird chirp in such a long time. A single tear slides down my face. Stupid. I’m supposed to be strong and protective not a wimp crying on the floor. Man up Frank. Lauren needs you right now.
“Shh,” Gerard coos. “It’ll be alright, Frank and I are gonna take care of you.”
Accusing green eyes flick quickly to his face then to the ice bag that is now steadily letting out icy water, causing a wet spot to form on the wood floor. A thin hand reaches out for the watery ice, pressing it to the start of a bruise around her eye. That one will be the hardest to cover.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Lauren be nice, that’s Gerard, he’s my friend,” I explain, my hand being brought up to her cheek. My heart flutters just a little.
Even in her broken and beaten state Lauren in the most beautiful girl I know. She’s got this silent confidence about her that comes out at the best of times. Her eyes are always bright, no matter how dead she must feel inside. And God, that smile, it could light up an entire room yet in almost three years I’ve only seen it a handful of times. More tears stream down my face. I don’t even make a move to wipe them away.
“Frankie don’t be upset. It really is my fault. I’m stupid enough to go back to him even after he does stuff like this to me,” Lauren says quietly, her voice barely audible above the ceiling fan that continues to circle round and round creating a nice current of air.
Anger rises within me, like red flames of a fire, licking at my brain, making it hard to think proper. Clamping down on my lip I force myself to not yell at her for the stupid comment she just managed to let spew from her pretty little mouth. How the hell could she think this was her fault? Obviously Lauren, smart, pretty, brave, sarcastic, Lauren doesn’t deserve this shit. Breathing in and out slowly I manage to clear my vision. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.
“Lauren, darling, you don’t deserve any of the beatings Brice dishes out. He’s an arse. Don’t you ever think, even for a second that you are at fault,” I whisper hoping she understands.
A fierce beating on the door causes all of us to stop, frozen like ice, eyes glued to the open front window. With almost animal like reflexes Gerard is pulling the blinds shut, latching the chain on my wooden door. There is only one person who would be paying a visit to Gerard and me at this time of the day and this person’s name has us all shaking in our skin.
Another vicious beating on the door and attack of the bell sends Lauren into a fit of tears. Her small frame is convulsing almost manically and not even Gerard’s soft words seem to be able to calm her. Brice has instilled fear in the girl I care so deeply about as well as in myself and by the looks of it Gee too.
What the hell would we do if he got in? Both myself, 5’4, well built but with little fighting skills, Gerard, tall and lanky and Lauren, bruised and frightened out of her mind, could not hold him back.
I remember back to the first time Lauren sought refuge from her abusive boyfriend at my house. Although at the time she had begged and pleaded for me not to contact the police she did tell me that if he tried to break in I should call. I suppose now is a wonderful time to pick up the phone and get some back up.
Fumbling with the buttons I manage to get the numbers in, saying silent prayers until a voice on the other end sounds causing me to let out a shaky sigh of relief. I don’t think I’ve ever been this frightened in my entire life.
“Hello, yes, this is Frank Iero, I live at 113 Belmount. Yes, there is someone trying to break in. No I am not alone, my friend Gerard Way and Lauren Meirs are here with me. Of course I know the man trying to break in, he’s Lauren’s abusive boyfriend,” I quickly get out before the line goes dead.
Fifteen minutes, what police take fifteen minutes to get to a house that is just down the block from the station? What if someone was trying to kill us, all three of us would be dead by the time they finally arrived.
Fists latch onto my maroon polo shirt, a face buried into my chest. Wrapping my arms around Lauren I try and comfort her best I can in a situation like this. Heaven forbid I tell her everything will be alright. She doesn’t deserve to be lied to. In a stupid an extremely desperate attempt to cause all the fear to go away…I kiss her.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
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