Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > I Never Told You What I Do For A Living
Chapter 4
Gerard’s POV
Everyone has hated somebody at one point in their life. You might be talking about the class bitch, saying “I hate her so much, she’s so annoying.” But do you truly hate her? Probably not. People say they hate their siblings a lot. But deep inside, they know that they love their siblings to death.
Never in my life had I said I hate my little brother. Never. I loved my brother more than anything. But now, seeing my pale, trembling boyfriend swathed in blankets in a hospital bed, I hate him. I hate Mikey for what he has done. Because of him, Frank is in severe shock. His blood pressure is dangerously low. He can barely feed himself. He keeps looking behind him, as if he expects a gunman to be there instead of pillows and wires.
The bullet that Mikey fired tore off a chunk of my skin and lodged itself just above Frank’s pelvic bone. The doctors say he’s extremely lucky that it didn’t damage any organs. The bullet is now in a sterile plastic bag, sitting in some detective’s office. According to the news, the amount of evidence against my brother is staggering. The police found over 90 bullet casings. The gun Mikey used was a double-action .45 ACP semi-automatic compact pistol. Whatever the hell that means. I don’t know where he got the gun. But hey, it’s Belleview.
“Gerard…” Frank whispers.
“What is it, baby?” I ask gently, carefully shifting his position in my arms. The doctors threw a fit about us cuddling with our wounds and all, but we won in the end. All the survivors have been visiting each other.
“I’m… I’m confused.” Frankie buries his head in my hospital gown.
“I know, Frankie. I know.” My throat becomes tight. I want to cry, but I can’t. I have to be strong for Frankie.
“Good evening, Belleview. We have an update on the Belleview High shooting that occurred yesterday morning.”
I look at Frankie. I doubt he wants to hear any more news segments on the shooting, but I want to be informed. I reach towards the side table for the iPod and headphones Frank’s mom brought him. I slip the headphones over his ears and put on one of his favorite bands, Black Flag. Then I focus my attention on the news reporter on TV.
“An official death count was released by the Belleview Police Department this afternoon. 11 students and one faculty member were killed in the shooting. We will now take a few moments to recognize them and their families.” A slideshow of images begins to play, each picture accompanied by a name.
Benjamin Highland.
Victoria Chadwell. Mikey’s ex girlfriend. A chill goes up my spine.
Jakob Ginzburg.
Regina Fanning.
Gregory Ziegler.
Madison Young.
Sophia Wright.
Andrew Hall.
Zoey Campbell.
Eli Torres.
Carl Poulin. The assistant principal.
The last picture fades out, and the news reporter’s face fills the screen once again. I wonder how she can give these news reports and not look upset. I look down at my boyfriend. He’s fallen asleep.
The images of the dead seem to be burned into the back of my eyelids. Everywhere I look, I see Regina Fanning’s pretty, smiling face. Or Andrew Hall’s spiky blonde hair. I remember seeing all of them around school, but I’d never talked to them. I didn’t even know most of their names. Now, they stick out in my memory. Sophia Wright was on the leadership committee. She often organized school dances. Gregory Ziegler was a quiet, shy boy in my algebra class. I used to think he was cute until I met Frank. Zoey Campbell was a bit dorky, making her a target for bullies.
Victoria Chadwell was Mikey’s girlfriend of nearly a year.
“Michael Way’s arraignment will be held at the courthouse tomorrow at 2 ‘o clock in the afternoon…”
My brother’s name catches my attention. I jerk my head up towards the screen again.
“The date of the trial has not yet been determined, but if Mr. Way is convicted, he will most likely spend the rest of his life in prison…”
“HIS NAME IS MIKEY!” I scream. I pick up a clipboard lying at the foot of the bed and throw it at the TV. The corner hits the off button, and the screen goes black.
Gerard’s POV
Everyone has hated somebody at one point in their life. You might be talking about the class bitch, saying “I hate her so much, she’s so annoying.” But do you truly hate her? Probably not. People say they hate their siblings a lot. But deep inside, they know that they love their siblings to death.
Never in my life had I said I hate my little brother. Never. I loved my brother more than anything. But now, seeing my pale, trembling boyfriend swathed in blankets in a hospital bed, I hate him. I hate Mikey for what he has done. Because of him, Frank is in severe shock. His blood pressure is dangerously low. He can barely feed himself. He keeps looking behind him, as if he expects a gunman to be there instead of pillows and wires.
The bullet that Mikey fired tore off a chunk of my skin and lodged itself just above Frank’s pelvic bone. The doctors say he’s extremely lucky that it didn’t damage any organs. The bullet is now in a sterile plastic bag, sitting in some detective’s office. According to the news, the amount of evidence against my brother is staggering. The police found over 90 bullet casings. The gun Mikey used was a double-action .45 ACP semi-automatic compact pistol. Whatever the hell that means. I don’t know where he got the gun. But hey, it’s Belleview.
“Gerard…” Frank whispers.
“What is it, baby?” I ask gently, carefully shifting his position in my arms. The doctors threw a fit about us cuddling with our wounds and all, but we won in the end. All the survivors have been visiting each other.
“I’m… I’m confused.” Frankie buries his head in my hospital gown.
“I know, Frankie. I know.” My throat becomes tight. I want to cry, but I can’t. I have to be strong for Frankie.
“Good evening, Belleview. We have an update on the Belleview High shooting that occurred yesterday morning.”
I look at Frankie. I doubt he wants to hear any more news segments on the shooting, but I want to be informed. I reach towards the side table for the iPod and headphones Frank’s mom brought him. I slip the headphones over his ears and put on one of his favorite bands, Black Flag. Then I focus my attention on the news reporter on TV.
“An official death count was released by the Belleview Police Department this afternoon. 11 students and one faculty member were killed in the shooting. We will now take a few moments to recognize them and their families.” A slideshow of images begins to play, each picture accompanied by a name.
Benjamin Highland.
Victoria Chadwell. Mikey’s ex girlfriend. A chill goes up my spine.
Jakob Ginzburg.
Regina Fanning.
Gregory Ziegler.
Madison Young.
Sophia Wright.
Andrew Hall.
Zoey Campbell.
Eli Torres.
Carl Poulin. The assistant principal.
The last picture fades out, and the news reporter’s face fills the screen once again. I wonder how she can give these news reports and not look upset. I look down at my boyfriend. He’s fallen asleep.
The images of the dead seem to be burned into the back of my eyelids. Everywhere I look, I see Regina Fanning’s pretty, smiling face. Or Andrew Hall’s spiky blonde hair. I remember seeing all of them around school, but I’d never talked to them. I didn’t even know most of their names. Now, they stick out in my memory. Sophia Wright was on the leadership committee. She often organized school dances. Gregory Ziegler was a quiet, shy boy in my algebra class. I used to think he was cute until I met Frank. Zoey Campbell was a bit dorky, making her a target for bullies.
Victoria Chadwell was Mikey’s girlfriend of nearly a year.
“Michael Way’s arraignment will be held at the courthouse tomorrow at 2 ‘o clock in the afternoon…”
My brother’s name catches my attention. I jerk my head up towards the screen again.
“The date of the trial has not yet been determined, but if Mr. Way is convicted, he will most likely spend the rest of his life in prison…”
“HIS NAME IS MIKEY!” I scream. I pick up a clipboard lying at the foot of the bed and throw it at the TV. The corner hits the off button, and the screen goes black.
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