Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > I'm Just the Worst Kind of Guy to Argue with what you Might Find.
I'm Just the Worst Kind of Guy to Argue with what you Might Find.
3 reviewsSequel to 'Gaze into his killing Jar' Mikey struggles to understand the inter-workings of the world, morals, emotions, wants and needs.
1Exciting
Okay Okay I know the ending to the last story was sloppy, messy, the story is WTF and ('unrealistic') and the writing is sub-par. But its there and you'll read it. Here's part two,just give it a chance, I'm really into this one. I hope you'll like it too. Blah blah Disclaimer blah. There won't be as much Frerard in this, but I'll try to throw in some ac'tioooon. By the Way (lool Way...) I suck at explaining back stories so he first paragraph or few will be a little rusty.
*]
These broken city skies. [*MIkey's POV
I lay back in the large oak, its branches cocooning me safely its arms. I put a fresh cigarette to my lips, playing with the the butane trigger before catching the tip in the flame. What was I gonna do with myself now, problems problems problems.
I'm fourteen, I'm gay. I live with my brother and two serial killers...yeah. I mean life is pretty good, I can't be too hard on Frank or Ray and definitely not Gerard. About a year and a half ago Gerard and I lived with our abusive father. He'd beat Gerard, made him do, stuff, and forced him to sell himself on the streets. And he'd well never mind what he'd do to me. Cause its over now. I guess while Gerard was on the streets he met Frank who just happened to be a serial killer and they fell madly dribbley gooey in love. I had my affections mixed up thinking I was in love with Gerard myself for a time. Scorn me think I'm sick, I don't care. Nobody knew but me and my father. Maybe Ray, it seems like he knows everything about me. Observant fuck. Ray's a serial killer as well. In that same time period Ray kidnapped Gerard and tortured him not knowing who he was apparently some big misunderstanding. Frank saved him in time. Ray come's off as a killer, more than Frank. He has those moments where he turns into predator mode in a normal conversation. Where his voice take on that want, that pheromone heavy icy tint. He'll bite his own full lips till they bleed, and then that little pink triangle of a tongue will come out like a clean up party to wipe away all traces of the sequin. I guess I see Ray in a different light, He's... I look up to him. He saved me he rescued me, from my father, from my life, from my obnoxious taste in music. We're all pretty close now, with the exception of Gerard and Ray, their friends but Gerard still flinches when Rays gets to close to him. Conditioning that's what its called, Ray says that it's a mild case of beaten wife syndrome, everyone thinks that that's funny. Except for Ray. Gerard can't see it, the way his face changes in the slightest when he see's Gerard like that, and then he always glances around, as if making sure no one saw that split second of vulnerability...
I exhaled letting the smoke circulate through the air in a delicate stream. I should get home soon. Bad people are out on the streets this time of night.
When I entered the back gate I performed my nearly ritualistic check to see if the pool house door was unlocked. I'd been doing it everyday sometimes two or three times a day since we'd moved in two years ago. And always the answer remained the same. Ray had told me never to go in there, never to go to the back rooms cause that's where...
I was there once I found my way in, drawn to the back room I let my feet carry me there, naïve, or maybe just ignorant, I opened the door on the aftermath of Gerard's accident. I was sure a monster had been there, I thought Frank had hurt Gerard, but when I spun around to leave, to scream, the real monster was right in front of me, and somehow in that childish mind of mine, I needed Ray to be forgiven, even if he didn't care. I needed him to be a hero, so I clutched on to him, trying to change him to morph my perception of him in to something negative, something evil. Something that I couldn't admire or love. But I kept holding on to him and he to me. The next day I woke up safe in a bed with clean sheets and blue walls. I came downstairs and Gerard and Frank were kissing while Frank held a plate of waffles out of Gerard's reach, Ray was reading the paper. It was surreal after all of the madness, after all the abuse, and alcoholism here, and broken home there. I did the typical Eeeeeewwwwwwwwww thing a kid does.
I think it was near then I stopped wanting Gerard, the way he and Franked looked at each other, the way Gee smiled when they were together, like he was happy. I hadn't seen that in so long. He deserved it, Happiness. So eventually, it just faded. I still love him and can admit being attracted to him in some ways, but he gets on my nerves now, and plays pranks and does brotherly thing now. He's no longer a god in a child's eyes, but he's still my best friend. We rescued my bass, and some other things from my fathers house. He'd gone into our rooms and trashed them both, but was gone when we came back.
He called it his Killing Jar, Ray did. I'd only seen him go in with company once. I raced down the stairs and pressed my ear to the door and waited there for hours. When he finally did come out, I had fallen asleep against the door and tumbled on to his feet. It was weird like that. Sometimes when we'd eat together we'd make tons of 'that's Killer' jokes and puns and sometimes we'd just talk about video games and bands. Normal stuff. This was my
family now, and for all the murdering, raping and fucked up evil things that they do behind closed doors. I love them more than I could ever love my father, or anyone really.
*]
These broken city skies. [*MIkey's POV
I lay back in the large oak, its branches cocooning me safely its arms. I put a fresh cigarette to my lips, playing with the the butane trigger before catching the tip in the flame. What was I gonna do with myself now, problems problems problems.
I'm fourteen, I'm gay. I live with my brother and two serial killers...yeah. I mean life is pretty good, I can't be too hard on Frank or Ray and definitely not Gerard. About a year and a half ago Gerard and I lived with our abusive father. He'd beat Gerard, made him do, stuff, and forced him to sell himself on the streets. And he'd well never mind what he'd do to me. Cause its over now. I guess while Gerard was on the streets he met Frank who just happened to be a serial killer and they fell madly dribbley gooey in love. I had my affections mixed up thinking I was in love with Gerard myself for a time. Scorn me think I'm sick, I don't care. Nobody knew but me and my father. Maybe Ray, it seems like he knows everything about me. Observant fuck. Ray's a serial killer as well. In that same time period Ray kidnapped Gerard and tortured him not knowing who he was apparently some big misunderstanding. Frank saved him in time. Ray come's off as a killer, more than Frank. He has those moments where he turns into predator mode in a normal conversation. Where his voice take on that want, that pheromone heavy icy tint. He'll bite his own full lips till they bleed, and then that little pink triangle of a tongue will come out like a clean up party to wipe away all traces of the sequin. I guess I see Ray in a different light, He's... I look up to him. He saved me he rescued me, from my father, from my life, from my obnoxious taste in music. We're all pretty close now, with the exception of Gerard and Ray, their friends but Gerard still flinches when Rays gets to close to him. Conditioning that's what its called, Ray says that it's a mild case of beaten wife syndrome, everyone thinks that that's funny. Except for Ray. Gerard can't see it, the way his face changes in the slightest when he see's Gerard like that, and then he always glances around, as if making sure no one saw that split second of vulnerability...
I exhaled letting the smoke circulate through the air in a delicate stream. I should get home soon. Bad people are out on the streets this time of night.
When I entered the back gate I performed my nearly ritualistic check to see if the pool house door was unlocked. I'd been doing it everyday sometimes two or three times a day since we'd moved in two years ago. And always the answer remained the same. Ray had told me never to go in there, never to go to the back rooms cause that's where...
I was there once I found my way in, drawn to the back room I let my feet carry me there, naïve, or maybe just ignorant, I opened the door on the aftermath of Gerard's accident. I was sure a monster had been there, I thought Frank had hurt Gerard, but when I spun around to leave, to scream, the real monster was right in front of me, and somehow in that childish mind of mine, I needed Ray to be forgiven, even if he didn't care. I needed him to be a hero, so I clutched on to him, trying to change him to morph my perception of him in to something negative, something evil. Something that I couldn't admire or love. But I kept holding on to him and he to me. The next day I woke up safe in a bed with clean sheets and blue walls. I came downstairs and Gerard and Frank were kissing while Frank held a plate of waffles out of Gerard's reach, Ray was reading the paper. It was surreal after all of the madness, after all the abuse, and alcoholism here, and broken home there. I did the typical Eeeeeewwwwwwwwww thing a kid does.
I think it was near then I stopped wanting Gerard, the way he and Franked looked at each other, the way Gee smiled when they were together, like he was happy. I hadn't seen that in so long. He deserved it, Happiness. So eventually, it just faded. I still love him and can admit being attracted to him in some ways, but he gets on my nerves now, and plays pranks and does brotherly thing now. He's no longer a god in a child's eyes, but he's still my best friend. We rescued my bass, and some other things from my fathers house. He'd gone into our rooms and trashed them both, but was gone when we came back.
He called it his Killing Jar, Ray did. I'd only seen him go in with company once. I raced down the stairs and pressed my ear to the door and waited there for hours. When he finally did come out, I had fallen asleep against the door and tumbled on to his feet. It was weird like that. Sometimes when we'd eat together we'd make tons of 'that's Killer' jokes and puns and sometimes we'd just talk about video games and bands. Normal stuff. This was my
family now, and for all the murdering, raping and fucked up evil things that they do behind closed doors. I love them more than I could ever love my father, or anyone really.
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