Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Bullets
Late dawns and early sunsets, just like my favorite scenes
It should’ve been simple, really.
Mikey had the facts laid out before him in an orderly, easy way- but no matter how simply anyone put it- it was too hard to swallow, too much to accept.
Alicia. At first, he couldn’t believe she would accept him. He was dorky and skinny, with skuzzy glasses and awkward knees, but somehow, she still liked him.
All good things came to an end, he knew this. Alicia still loved him with all her heart, but the state of love wasn’t the problem.
A few months ago, Alicia had contracted skin cancer.
It should’ve been simple, really.
But it was not.
The hospital was three things- vast, sterile, and white. Mikey shifted nervously and adjusted the bow on his bouquet. Alicia had constantly been complaining about how she had been inundated by such things.
“It’s not like I’m gonna need this when I die anyway,” she said. “Why can’t everyone just use the money to buy all this shit to donate to the homeless or something?”
Despite the protests, Mikey had insisted upon bringing in the most extravagant, most beautiful bouquet she had ever seen. Again, he anxiously straightened the bow and tried to make his tousled hair look somewhat brushed- it wasn’t the bunch of flowers itself that he was worried about- it was the card he had made to go with it. It was a picture of the sunset he had drawn one day, keeping in mind how much Alicia loved the early sunsets over Monroeville. He had known that his drawing, which paled in comparison to the real thing, might be the last sunset she would ever see.
He looked down at his shoes- beat-up work boots.
This sucks.
He pushed the glass door open, a burst of cool air hitting him in the face as he entered the hospital. The receptionist- Sammi, as she had asked him to call her- looked up from her book and smiled at him.
“Hey, Mikey. Visiting Alicia again?” she asked, setting the book on the Formica counter, face-up.
He nodded, picking off a dead petal from one of the sweet pea blossoms. “How is she?”
“Smiling, as always.” Sammi laid the register by the book and a pen beside it. “Strong in soul, but... not in body, I’m afraid.”
He nodded quietly, trying to stop the tears from spilling over. The scrawling signature that he had left in the register began to blur as the waterworks started to flood, but he had already turned away and was starting up the stairs before the real crying began.
The hallway was monochromatic, with the occasional splash of orange light, provided by the early sunset. It was beautiful, further plunging Mikey into a state of depression.
This sucks.
Everything sucked.
Why did Alicia have to die? He asked himself the same question, mulling over it, feeling just how much it hurt. It hurt a lot.
He hurried along the bleached corridor, stopping finally at Alicia’s room- 008. Even before he entered, he could see what she meant by drowning in gifts. Colorful boxes and bouquets littered nearly every square inch of the room, with the exception of the bed itself and the IV.
Alicia herself was asleep, her whitish hair mussed and spread across her forehead like someone had taken a Magic Marker to it. He lightly tapped the door to wake her, and as she slowly opened her eyes, her gaze fell upon the jubilee of soft pink flowers in Mikey’s hands.
“Didn’t I say... no more gifts, stupid?” she croaked good-humoredly, weakly gesturing to the menagerie of flora that inundated the room.
“Thought one more wouldn’t hurt.” he said, lightly kissing her on the forehead. “Forgive me?”
She smirked. “Forgiven. But where are you going to put it?”
He stood up straight, looking around for a blank spot. There was none, and seeing that, he sat down in one of the molded plastic chairs beside the bed.
“You lose.” Alicia said. “Whatever. I’ll have the nurse move some of this stuff out.”
“Alicia?” Mikey said, silently cringing at the way his voice sounded.
“Yeah?” she asked, wiping the once-dark, but now disease-bleached hair out of her face.
“You know how-“
“How I’ll inevitably die and you’d like to confess your undying love for me and my unicorn collection? Sorry, already done.” she said wryly, trying to shed humor on the conversation.
“No, it’s...”
Alicia’s hand moved to point at something above the door. Mikey turned his head to try and see what she was pointing at. Seeing nothing, he turned back to Alicia.
Her skin had turned from alabaster to pasty, and her eyes had become lackluster. The steady, gentle beep from the heart monitor gradually faded into one flat, unending line. Vitals no longer functioning, Alicia had passed away in the time Mikey had looked away.
She didn’t want me to see. he thought dumbly, staring down at the flowers, then back at Alicia’s lifeless hands.
Suddenly, the bouquet of flowers felt more like lead, and the hands seemed stark and empty. Without a thought, Mikey arranged the bouquet so that she appeared to be holding it like a bride. The bride that she would never get the chance to be.
He looked away, Sammi and some others already in the room to collect the body to store in the morgue until further notice. Numbly, Mikey stood and robotically walked out of the room, down the cold steps, and out into the muggy summer heat.
The sunset had nearly ended, the sky streaked with the consummating pink shade that he could never quite capture in his drawings. He sat down on the curb and watched the beautiful sunset dissipate, and the sky turn from rusted to black, the stars dotted ubiquitously across the dark canvas. One star in particular shone especially bright, and on a whim Mikey stood and spoke to it.
“Did you like my picture, Alicia?”
Then holding hands and life was perfect, just like up on the screen
It should’ve been simple, really.
Mikey had the facts laid out before him in an orderly, easy way- but no matter how simply anyone put it- it was too hard to swallow, too much to accept.
Alicia. At first, he couldn’t believe she would accept him. He was dorky and skinny, with skuzzy glasses and awkward knees, but somehow, she still liked him.
All good things came to an end, he knew this. Alicia still loved him with all her heart, but the state of love wasn’t the problem.
A few months ago, Alicia had contracted skin cancer.
It should’ve been simple, really.
But it was not.
The hospital was three things- vast, sterile, and white. Mikey shifted nervously and adjusted the bow on his bouquet. Alicia had constantly been complaining about how she had been inundated by such things.
“It’s not like I’m gonna need this when I die anyway,” she said. “Why can’t everyone just use the money to buy all this shit to donate to the homeless or something?”
Despite the protests, Mikey had insisted upon bringing in the most extravagant, most beautiful bouquet she had ever seen. Again, he anxiously straightened the bow and tried to make his tousled hair look somewhat brushed- it wasn’t the bunch of flowers itself that he was worried about- it was the card he had made to go with it. It was a picture of the sunset he had drawn one day, keeping in mind how much Alicia loved the early sunsets over Monroeville. He had known that his drawing, which paled in comparison to the real thing, might be the last sunset she would ever see.
He looked down at his shoes- beat-up work boots.
This sucks.
He pushed the glass door open, a burst of cool air hitting him in the face as he entered the hospital. The receptionist- Sammi, as she had asked him to call her- looked up from her book and smiled at him.
“Hey, Mikey. Visiting Alicia again?” she asked, setting the book on the Formica counter, face-up.
He nodded, picking off a dead petal from one of the sweet pea blossoms. “How is she?”
“Smiling, as always.” Sammi laid the register by the book and a pen beside it. “Strong in soul, but... not in body, I’m afraid.”
He nodded quietly, trying to stop the tears from spilling over. The scrawling signature that he had left in the register began to blur as the waterworks started to flood, but he had already turned away and was starting up the stairs before the real crying began.
The hallway was monochromatic, with the occasional splash of orange light, provided by the early sunset. It was beautiful, further plunging Mikey into a state of depression.
This sucks.
Everything sucked.
Why did Alicia have to die? He asked himself the same question, mulling over it, feeling just how much it hurt. It hurt a lot.
He hurried along the bleached corridor, stopping finally at Alicia’s room- 008. Even before he entered, he could see what she meant by drowning in gifts. Colorful boxes and bouquets littered nearly every square inch of the room, with the exception of the bed itself and the IV.
Alicia herself was asleep, her whitish hair mussed and spread across her forehead like someone had taken a Magic Marker to it. He lightly tapped the door to wake her, and as she slowly opened her eyes, her gaze fell upon the jubilee of soft pink flowers in Mikey’s hands.
“Didn’t I say... no more gifts, stupid?” she croaked good-humoredly, weakly gesturing to the menagerie of flora that inundated the room.
“Thought one more wouldn’t hurt.” he said, lightly kissing her on the forehead. “Forgive me?”
She smirked. “Forgiven. But where are you going to put it?”
He stood up straight, looking around for a blank spot. There was none, and seeing that, he sat down in one of the molded plastic chairs beside the bed.
“You lose.” Alicia said. “Whatever. I’ll have the nurse move some of this stuff out.”
“Alicia?” Mikey said, silently cringing at the way his voice sounded.
“Yeah?” she asked, wiping the once-dark, but now disease-bleached hair out of her face.
“You know how-“
“How I’ll inevitably die and you’d like to confess your undying love for me and my unicorn collection? Sorry, already done.” she said wryly, trying to shed humor on the conversation.
“No, it’s...”
Alicia’s hand moved to point at something above the door. Mikey turned his head to try and see what she was pointing at. Seeing nothing, he turned back to Alicia.
Her skin had turned from alabaster to pasty, and her eyes had become lackluster. The steady, gentle beep from the heart monitor gradually faded into one flat, unending line. Vitals no longer functioning, Alicia had passed away in the time Mikey had looked away.
She didn’t want me to see. he thought dumbly, staring down at the flowers, then back at Alicia’s lifeless hands.
Suddenly, the bouquet of flowers felt more like lead, and the hands seemed stark and empty. Without a thought, Mikey arranged the bouquet so that she appeared to be holding it like a bride. The bride that she would never get the chance to be.
He looked away, Sammi and some others already in the room to collect the body to store in the morgue until further notice. Numbly, Mikey stood and robotically walked out of the room, down the cold steps, and out into the muggy summer heat.
The sunset had nearly ended, the sky streaked with the consummating pink shade that he could never quite capture in his drawings. He sat down on the curb and watched the beautiful sunset dissipate, and the sky turn from rusted to black, the stars dotted ubiquitously across the dark canvas. One star in particular shone especially bright, and on a whim Mikey stood and spoke to it.
“Did you like my picture, Alicia?”
Then holding hands and life was perfect, just like up on the screen
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