Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Dear Gravity
Well, I'm thinking I might stop posting on Ficwad. I'll be updating on that very soon.
Frank shuffled his feet down the dirt path, as stones kicked out with every step he took. His worn out black Converse were now covered in the dust colored earth beneath him, no longer looking even slightly clean. He shoved one hand in his pocket as he walked, the other gently keeping hold of the flowers he'd picked.
The cemetery was coming into view, and he could almost see the pile of recently disturbed dirt that marked Cadence's grave. The Belleville local cemetery was very small, and there weren't too many people who buried their loved ones there anymore. Mostly, the grieving family found it better to make the short drive into Hoboken for a burial place rather than stick with Belleville, only because it seemed slightly primitive. There was no gate around the cemetery, just fields and wooded areas surrounding it. No security, not even anything more than an old wooden sign marking the grounds as a cemetery.
Frank stepped into the grass, weaving through the grave markers and trying to do his best to respect the dead. It was easy to find Cadence; she had the only fresh grave in the past three months. Her parents had ordered her gravestone, but it hadn't arrived yet.
Frank gripped the bouquet of pink stargazer lilies that he'd clipped from his mom's garden only about an hour before he'd left for the cemetery. He chewed his lip ring, running his tongue against the metal as he silently knelt down next to the dirt and placed the lilies on top of it. "Cadie..." he started, his voice raw and quiet.
Frank shut his eyes, trying to find the right words. "You know, that dress that they put you in didn't do you justice", he chuckled wryly, recalling the baby blue chiffon sundress she was buried in. Sure, it was beautiful. But it wasn't good enough for Cadence, in Frank's opinion. She deserved so much more than something so simple.
His hazel eyes burned as he kept his composure. Frank was normally pretty strong, but Cadence still took his breathe away and made it hard to think clearly. Frank sighed and slumped down onto the ground. "You kept saying you were a hopeless romantic. I guess it makes me wonder..." he paused. "If I hadn't been such a fucking jackass, you know?" his voice cracked at the last word, and he hung his head. His hands spread out in the dirt, he clenched his fingers around the moist earth. "Fuck", he growled.
"Why did you do that? I know I did a bunch of terrible shit, but damnit! You didn't need to fucking off yourself!" he cried, his voice echoing through to treetops. "How the hell could you even..." he trailed off.
Frank's eyes burned even more now, as he tried to hold back the only tears he'd really cried over her. "You never really gave me the chance to apologize. All I wanted was your attention, I swear. I never, ever wanted to hurt you. I never wanted this to happen", he whispered desperately. "I would take your place in a heartbeat. I would tell you how I felt if you were here, I would say I was sorry. But... I can't, can I?"
He released his grip on the dirt and let a few stray tears fall on the earth. This was hard on him, he knew. Frank chuckled morbidly as he thought of a song that kept reminding him so much of his predicament.
"Try to find out what makes you tick, as I lie down, sore and sick", he sang quietly, his voice still strained. "Do you like that? Do you like that? There's a fine line between love and hate and I don't mind, just let me say that I like that, I like that..."
Frank slowly stood on shaky legs. "Something's getting in the way, something's just about to break. I will try to find my place in the diary of Jane..." he trailed off with a ragged sigh, clenching his eyes shut and willing away the tears for one last time. "I won't let you tear me apart like this, Cadie. Not now."
He turned and started to walk away from the grave, but paused a few feet away. "I am sorry, though."
*
Gerard sat in his room, staring out the basement window, watching as the clouds formed. A storm looked quite promising that evening. His bedroom had become a disaster area; sheets of artwork and music that were once only strewn over the surface of his desk were now flowing onto the floor, dirty glasses and plates piled up on his nightstand, clothes lay in piles in the corners and mixed in with the mess in the middle of his floor.
Gerard's room used to be pristine, but like his now disheveled appearance, it was a complete wreck. His eyes had dark circles under them, mostly from not sleeping and overworking himself. Sketches of Cadence were scattered all over his bed, most scribbled out over with notes on how to sketch the next one, because the previous one wasn't quite right. He spent countless nights trying to remember exactly the way her dark hair fell around her face, or how her eyebrows would furrow when she was concentrating really hard on something. Or her eyes even. No matter what, he couldn't remember how her eyes looked. It bothered him to the point of insanity, it seemed.
Gee slumped over in his chair now, exhausted. It was only midday, but he’d been up the whole night before with tremors. He would wake up, heart pounding and skipping beats, his mind in a cloudy haze. Gee would occasionally wonder if what Cadence did was all bad, that maybe he could wake up from his constant nightmare if he joined her six feet under.
The sound of thunder was loud outside Gerard’s window. He stood and closed it, so the rain wouldn’t come in. The air smelled fresh, though it was humid, but it still felt like heaven to him. He needed the change in atmosphere, even if it just meant simply cracking a window. Mostly, he’d been locked inside his room since the funeral, refusing to even leave the house. Gerard’s guitar seemed to be the only thing he was interested in anymore.
Unless, of course, you counted his undying interest for her…
Frank shuffled his feet down the dirt path, as stones kicked out with every step he took. His worn out black Converse were now covered in the dust colored earth beneath him, no longer looking even slightly clean. He shoved one hand in his pocket as he walked, the other gently keeping hold of the flowers he'd picked.
The cemetery was coming into view, and he could almost see the pile of recently disturbed dirt that marked Cadence's grave. The Belleville local cemetery was very small, and there weren't too many people who buried their loved ones there anymore. Mostly, the grieving family found it better to make the short drive into Hoboken for a burial place rather than stick with Belleville, only because it seemed slightly primitive. There was no gate around the cemetery, just fields and wooded areas surrounding it. No security, not even anything more than an old wooden sign marking the grounds as a cemetery.
Frank stepped into the grass, weaving through the grave markers and trying to do his best to respect the dead. It was easy to find Cadence; she had the only fresh grave in the past three months. Her parents had ordered her gravestone, but it hadn't arrived yet.
Frank gripped the bouquet of pink stargazer lilies that he'd clipped from his mom's garden only about an hour before he'd left for the cemetery. He chewed his lip ring, running his tongue against the metal as he silently knelt down next to the dirt and placed the lilies on top of it. "Cadie..." he started, his voice raw and quiet.
Frank shut his eyes, trying to find the right words. "You know, that dress that they put you in didn't do you justice", he chuckled wryly, recalling the baby blue chiffon sundress she was buried in. Sure, it was beautiful. But it wasn't good enough for Cadence, in Frank's opinion. She deserved so much more than something so simple.
His hazel eyes burned as he kept his composure. Frank was normally pretty strong, but Cadence still took his breathe away and made it hard to think clearly. Frank sighed and slumped down onto the ground. "You kept saying you were a hopeless romantic. I guess it makes me wonder..." he paused. "If I hadn't been such a fucking jackass, you know?" his voice cracked at the last word, and he hung his head. His hands spread out in the dirt, he clenched his fingers around the moist earth. "Fuck", he growled.
"Why did you do that? I know I did a bunch of terrible shit, but damnit! You didn't need to fucking off yourself!" he cried, his voice echoing through to treetops. "How the hell could you even..." he trailed off.
Frank's eyes burned even more now, as he tried to hold back the only tears he'd really cried over her. "You never really gave me the chance to apologize. All I wanted was your attention, I swear. I never, ever wanted to hurt you. I never wanted this to happen", he whispered desperately. "I would take your place in a heartbeat. I would tell you how I felt if you were here, I would say I was sorry. But... I can't, can I?"
He released his grip on the dirt and let a few stray tears fall on the earth. This was hard on him, he knew. Frank chuckled morbidly as he thought of a song that kept reminding him so much of his predicament.
"Try to find out what makes you tick, as I lie down, sore and sick", he sang quietly, his voice still strained. "Do you like that? Do you like that? There's a fine line between love and hate and I don't mind, just let me say that I like that, I like that..."
Frank slowly stood on shaky legs. "Something's getting in the way, something's just about to break. I will try to find my place in the diary of Jane..." he trailed off with a ragged sigh, clenching his eyes shut and willing away the tears for one last time. "I won't let you tear me apart like this, Cadie. Not now."
He turned and started to walk away from the grave, but paused a few feet away. "I am sorry, though."
*
Gerard sat in his room, staring out the basement window, watching as the clouds formed. A storm looked quite promising that evening. His bedroom had become a disaster area; sheets of artwork and music that were once only strewn over the surface of his desk were now flowing onto the floor, dirty glasses and plates piled up on his nightstand, clothes lay in piles in the corners and mixed in with the mess in the middle of his floor.
Gerard's room used to be pristine, but like his now disheveled appearance, it was a complete wreck. His eyes had dark circles under them, mostly from not sleeping and overworking himself. Sketches of Cadence were scattered all over his bed, most scribbled out over with notes on how to sketch the next one, because the previous one wasn't quite right. He spent countless nights trying to remember exactly the way her dark hair fell around her face, or how her eyebrows would furrow when she was concentrating really hard on something. Or her eyes even. No matter what, he couldn't remember how her eyes looked. It bothered him to the point of insanity, it seemed.
Gee slumped over in his chair now, exhausted. It was only midday, but he’d been up the whole night before with tremors. He would wake up, heart pounding and skipping beats, his mind in a cloudy haze. Gee would occasionally wonder if what Cadence did was all bad, that maybe he could wake up from his constant nightmare if he joined her six feet under.
The sound of thunder was loud outside Gerard’s window. He stood and closed it, so the rain wouldn’t come in. The air smelled fresh, though it was humid, but it still felt like heaven to him. He needed the change in atmosphere, even if it just meant simply cracking a window. Mostly, he’d been locked inside his room since the funeral, refusing to even leave the house. Gerard’s guitar seemed to be the only thing he was interested in anymore.
Unless, of course, you counted his undying interest for her…
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