Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Remember Me

chapter ten

by XxxFallenAngelXxxx 4 reviews

That evil bastard deserved to rot in hell for everything he had done to me.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst - Characters: Bob Bryar,Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Ray Toro - Published: 2011-12-12 - Updated: 2011-12-13 - 794 words

hey, sorry about the wait. I hope you like the chapter,more will be revealed soon. I warn you it is sad but there will be a happyish ending cause I`m a sucker for `em
Frank`s pov
The three of us searched for Gerard for hours, but we had no luck. The crimson haired, pale skinned boy was nowhere to be found. We searched everywhere he usually went, the newsagents, the cd store, the library, but he wasn`t there. We checked his house despite there being no lights on. If he was there, he didn`t answer. I was getting more and more anxious as each awful second turned into another excruciatingly long minute. I wasn`t even sure why I was so worried, but I was.
“We could try and call him again.” Ray suggests in a quietly calm voice, but we could both hear the worry behind it, no matter how hard he tried to mask it.
Bob shakes his head, sandy hair flopping forward into his bright blue eyes. “He ain`t gonna answer us, and it`s getting dark. He`s probably gone home by now.” I could tell that he wasn`t too certain about this, but he was trying to reassure both himself and me and Ray. None of us wanted to picture our friend lying in a gutter somewhere freezing cold and all alone. The thought terrified me, it angered me to, even though I had no proof that he was lying in a gutter somewhere.

Later that night after forcing down a few mouthfuls of slightly undercooked pasta, and washing my hair for the morning, I lie, wide awake under my bed covers, all kinds of horrible thoughts running through my confused mind. Gerard would be at home now, wouldn`t he? If he wasn’t alight I don’t know what I`d do.
Gerard`s pov
I glare at the ancient photograph and rush out of the room, hazel green eyes stinging with hot, weak tears that I desperately blink back.
“Stupid, Gerard, stupid…” I mutter to myself under my breath, ruining a slightly trembling hand through my tangled, raven black hair, mentally cursing myself for being so stupid.
What on earth possessed me to look at those pictures from happier times that had long since past? Perhaps I was starting to enjoy my own bitter, bleak suffering.
I wasn’t the same kid from that photo anymore. I hadn`t been in so many years, so many dismal, hate filled and painful, tear filled years. And it was all his fault, not mine, no matter what he had tried to force me to believe. I had disappointed him, so fucking what?! So what if I wasn`t the perfect son he had always wanted? Perfection wasn`t real. I was his child, his son he was supposed to love me no matter what.
I sigh defeatedly and slowly trudge up the creaky stairs that led to the bedrooms and the upstairs bathroom. I collapse down on my unmade bed, the old mattress sagging and protesting as I do so. I grab the small black and grey remote and switch my cd player on, the comforting, familiar sounds blasting out of the speakers, doing their job of blocking out unwanted thoughts perfectly.

“Gerard, sweetie?” there is a hesitant knock at the door, a little after nine at night, my mom smiled warmly yet nervously at me, her eyes deep pools of concern and worry for her eldest son.
“What?” I didn’t mean to snap at her, but I did. I see her wince at my cold, cruel tone and I feel so guilty. It wasn`t her fault I was such a mess. It was mine. Or was it his? I wonder, it was probably both of our faults.
“I got a call from Bob`s mother, and Ray`s just now, they said that Bob and Ray told them that you ran off earlier, are you alright? You can tell me anything you know.” She perches uneasily on the end of my bed, kicking off an old Kerrang” magazine I had been carelessly flicking through.
“I`m fine ma, just…tired.” It wasn`t a lie. I rarely had a good night’s sleep, I spent half the night reading, the other worrying about everything else that could and most likely would go wrong inn my pathetic excuse for a life. And on the nights I was lucky enough to sleep, my unconscious moments were haunted by nightmares, all about the one man who had made my life a living hell.
My father.
That evil bastard deserved to rot in hell for everything he had done to me.
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