FicWad

I Sleep in Heaven, I Live in Hell



I have this dream, even though most people might possibly call it a nightmare, that beckons to me every night. It’s the reason I love sleeping, the reason that I hate it too. It makes everything seem as bright as the gleam of a freshly cut diamond and as sweet as a kid’s first taste of funfair candyfloss. Yet at the same time it makes it all seem like a member of Mensa couldn’t make sense of it and as poisonous as Medusa’s deadly glare.

I wouldn’t change it, though. Not even if it meant I could be normal again; I would rather waste my life pretending than have to go one single night without the dream. My dream. Dream.

But just what is a dream?

Dream (noun). Idle hope. An idea or hope that is impractical or unlikely to ever be realized.

Well, I think the dictionary has gotten it pretty much spot-on.

My dream is a hope, a hope that keeps me going and makes life feel that little bit more bearable because I’m clinging onto the fact that my hope is simply near non-existent; not gone completely, just very nearly so. Someone once told me that all human beings need hope to survive, that without it life has no point or purpose and I guess I agree. I know I would’ve committed the unthinkable long ago if I didn’t have my dream to cling onto, my one final hope for a life worth living.

The part where the dictionary says it’s impractical and unlikely to ever happen, unfortunately, is also true in my case. Too true for me to be able to kid myself that it’s not. It really isn’t practical, it’s the polar opposite because I know how hard it would be if my dream ever was realised. How hard it is to keep on living knowing that it never will be. As for the unlikely part of it; more like impossible. But I’m still clinging onto the hope that it might happen, that I might just wake up one day to see you lying in bed beside me, calling me your baby and trickling your hands all over my unworthy skin.

Just like in the dream.

Or maybe it is a nightmare.

I know it makes me wake up crying most nights, crying because it’s excruciating to think of that which I must never have. That which you’d hate me for if I took.

Nightmares, dreams, hopes, let-downs; they’re all the same really, aren’t they?

Dreams plant hope and hopes lay the foundations for being let down. Without hope there would be nothing to destroy with cutting words or blatant reality, but at the same time there’d be no reason to live. Nothing to keep people willing and wanting to work onwards towards the hope becoming more than just an idle dream but an actual, tangible reality. But then the nightmares come, crashing everything down around us and pointing out that hope is hopeless; that reality must always win.

That’s what I get every night does. It gives me a taste of pleasurable paradise and then snatches it away, telling me that I’ll never experience the full flavour because I can’t. Not now. Not ever. Not that you’d want me to anyway.

Because there’s one key factor that makes my dream/nightmare something that I know will never happen; it’s about you, big brother. And trust me, this dream is far from innocent.

But I’m little innocent Mikey Way. The quiet one with awkward knees and no real reason to complain about my life. The weird one with glasses who gets beaten up at school every day just for being a ‘fag’, for wearing eyeliner, for listening to the wrong kind of music; for being me.

I think that’s what made me realise I love you, Gee. You’ve never seen me like they do; you’ve only ever snuggled and tickled and sang to me. Only ever told me that I can make my dreams come true. Not this one though. Even I’m not deluded enough to think that it will ever happen. That you’ll be mine even though I’ll always be yours.

I’d kill for you, Gerard. I’d stab and slice and hack away at the flesh of a thousand evil men if that’s what you wanted. It’s always been that way, though; I’ve always been the baby brother and you’ve always been the big one, leading me along and refusing to let me fall.

Apart from now I have fallen and fallen hard. Fallen for you and it’s killing me.

Because sometimes, hopes and dreams just aren’t enough.

Goodnight.









A/N: So I get in from school thinking that I’ll have fun writing some fluff. But oh no, my warped little mind came up with this instead. Sorry if it sucks, thanks for reading and please let me know what you think! :)