Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > This Is The Best Day Ever

Dead End Justice

by KilljoyOnFire 2 reviews

Bert and Gerard are total escape artists.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Crossover,Drama - Characters: Gerard Way - Published: 2012-07-15 - Updated: 2012-07-15 - 1202 words

Chapter 12

The rest of the day is a nervous, jittery, anxiety-riddled blur. Bert and I returned to our room and put on as many pairs of clothes as we could without looking strange. We managed to get the majority of our few possessions to fit in our clothes. If we didn’t draw attention to it, nobody would notice. We couldn’t exactly carry everything we needed while on the run.

Now, as we’re sitting in the cafeteria during dinner, Bert pats my shaking leg under the table. “Everything’s going to be okay.” he says quietly. “You remember the plan, right?”

I nod. I do remember. Our plan is to head up to the chute after dinner. Bert wants me to go down first. When we’re outside, we are going to run in the opposite direction from the hospital until it’s out of sight. So basically, we’re going to wing it.

All around us, residents chat with each other, eating. The particularly disturbed and insane eat alone or with staff members. They’re not going to escape in twenty minutes. For them, everything is completely normal. They are going to return to their assigned, cookie-cutter rooms after dinner. They don’t have two hoodies on with underwear and socks shoved up their sleeves. They don’t have a toothbrush in their shoe. They don’t have their favorite comic book awkwardly curved around their leg and fastened with double-sided tape smuggled from the craft section of the library.

The grilled chicken breast on my plate has a strange yellow tint to it. I make a disgusted face and push it away. The rest of my food lies untouched.

Bert notices this and pushes my tray closer to me. “You need to eat. You’ll need energy.” he tells me. I look down at the wilting vegetables and then back up to Bert, raising an eyebrow. Seriously? my expression reads. But I obey and force a forkful of food down my throat.

“This is the last time you’ll ever have to eat this crap!” Bert says cheerfully, cutting his own chicken breast. I respond with a half-hearted smile.

Bert tries to get me to cheer up all throughout dinner. I wish I could cheer up, but something’s weighing me down. I want to leave Berkman’s. I really, truly do. But the outside world seems so frightening… Things will have changed so much. It feels like time has frozen since I was brought here, but I know life has carried on as usual. How has the world changed? Who’s the president? How has society changed? What are people wearing? Did the government find Osama yet? Do people still remember me, or wonder where I went? Do people think I’m dead? Fallen off the face of the earth?

All I want to do now is crawl under the covers with Bert and sleep. But I have a big night ahead of me. I manage to eat the majority of my food, and I drink two glasses of water. My anxiety is climbing by the second. I feel like a team of doctors in white coats are about to burst through the door and put Bert and I in straightjackets.

Another reason why I’m so scared to leave is my fear of abandonment. Before Berkman’s, I’d already had anxiety about being left behind by people, especially the few friends I had. Being tossed in a mental institution by my family caused that anxiety to skyrocket, which is kind of stupid because there was nobody left to leave me.

But then Bert came along. If he decides to leave me once we’re back in the real world, I’ll have nowhere to go except the streets. I’ll be a homeless bum sitting on a street corner, hoping that the next person who passes will drop some spare change into my cup.

People begin to file out of the cafeteria, snapping me back to reality. Bert grins, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Here we go!” he whispers excitedly.

We discreetly move down the hallways and up the stairs. The people who watch the surveillance cameras must slack off a lot. As we walk, my legs shake. I can feel my nervousness everywhere in my body. It bounces off the walls of my stomach like a rubber ball.

I want to throw up when we reach the recycling chute. I want to throw up, run back to my room, and pretend like this never happened. But Bert has already opened the small door.

“I love you.” he murmurs, giving me a kiss. His arms encircle me. I don’t want him to let me go.

“I love you too.” I whisper back, my voice breaking. Bert lifts me and positions me inside of the metal chute. It’s not as steep as I thought. All I can see is darkness.

“I’ll count to ten and then I’ll come down after you. I promise.” Bert says. Then he releases me and I’m sliding downwards.

It suddenly occurs to me that we never considered how painful the landing might be. I barely have time to think about this, though, because I can see light ahead. I land into a dumpster with a crash a second later. Crushed cans and paper surround me. I seem to be in some sort of alley.

“Whoooo!” I hear Bert cry above. I quickly move out of the way so he doesn’t body slam me. He lands beside me unharmed.

Bert’s expression of glee suddenly turns serious. “Out of the dumpster now.” he commands, dragging me upwards.

Have you ever had one of those nightmares where you’re running from something but your legs wouldn’t move? Like the cops are closing in and your legs are made of lead? That’s how I feel now as I scramble over the side of the blue dumpster. My shoes meet asphalt. A cool breeze floats over my body…

The angry wail of a siren startles me. No, not an ambulance siren. This siren sounds like a fire alarm. The screeching hurts my ears. It seems to be blaring directly out of the chute.

“FUCK! GERARD, RUN!” Bert shouts.

Adrenaline takes control of my body. We sprint through the alley and down a hill covered in dead grass. All I’m aware of is the energy pushing my legs forward and the sound of Bert’s pounding footsteps just behind me. He pauses for a moment at the bottom of the hill, looking up at the imposing gray building. The front door bursts open and people flood out. I can tell that they’re staff members even from this distance because of their blue uniforms.

I grab Bert’s hand and look into his icy blues. They’re full of fear, so unlike the Bert that punched the staff member in the jaw. So unlike the Bert that pushed me down the chute. Without saying a word, we start to run again towards the sprawling city below with the sound of the alarm still ringing in our ears.
Sign up to rate and review this story