Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > 19
The dream came by a lot lately and it went a little like this:
He’ll be in a small, condensed space. Doesn’t really matter where -sometimes it’ll be the boot of a car, sometimes a locked closet, once even the inside of a skip. But around him there’ll be flames; big, raging tongues of fire that dart and flicker at his skin. The worst part is he doesn’t even feel the heat or smell the smoke as it continues to mottle his skin and drench his body in sweat, no he doesn’t feel it and maybe that’s what makes him panic. It’s not the fact that he can’t get out or that no one will hear his screams, it’s that the flames are drawing ever nearer and yet he still can’t gather that one morsel of fear inside him to make him cry out. And he wonders what’s wrong with him, he wonders why even as the heat becomes unbearable he can’t find a reason to keep fighting, to stay alive.
And then he realises that he doesn’t care because his life wasn’t worth fighting for anyway.
Frank opened his eyes slowly, his gaze meeting the ceiling. Once he would’ve woken up gasping or in a cold sweat, the tear tracks fresh on his cheeks, but now the dream came by so often he greeted it with indifference every time he fell asleep. He let his chest rise and fall heavily and rolled onto his side, staring at the room around him. He’d been waking up much earlier recently; sometimes so early he’d spend hours just lying in his bed in that grey mid-morning section of the day – those long dark hours of unbearable silence suspended between night and sunrise.
He sat up and remained still for a few seconds, tucking his knees up to his chest. Everything was grey. Like a vacuum had been placed in the middle of the threadbare carpet and just sucked up all the colours.
Grey, grey, grey.
Maybe it was just the light, the sun not quite rising or whatever and casting everything in almost-shadow - maybe it was just him. Things certainly seemed a lot greyer even when the sun was up. Yes, it was definitely him.
A few days ago he got a job. Well it was more an old friend of his dad’s who took pity on him and happened to own a garage, so he came along some weekends. It wasn’t great money and it wasn’t too dignifying but it was something and it got him out of the house. And the hardest part was cleaning the car grease out of his hair, which was a change.
He sighed and pulled his knees to his chest. The bed was warm but he felt cold, cold in his bones, like the vacuum had taken the warmth from him as well as the colours. He shivered. He was sick of being cold and he was sick of being colourless. No one should feel like this, or they should have a reason to at least. But Frank had no reason. Frank was just bored with the effort of feeling anything else.
He slid out of bed and out of the house, outside it was grey. Grey, grey, grey. He was sick of it, sick of it all so he kicked a stone lying in his path and it made him feel good about himself for a moment. He felt like he wanted to puke but nothing would come up. He felt like he wanted to scream but no words came out.
So Frank was just standing in the middle of his driveway and the world was grey around him when he realised someone who knew exactly how this felt. So he turned and strode out of his front yard and up next door’s driveway and the gravel crunched beneath his bare feet.
“Frank?”
He stopped in the middle of the gravel path because the door was already open. And he looked at the open door and Gerard was frowning.
“Hey!” he said in that way Gerard probably found really annoying and teenage and he started doubting whether he should have come.
“What are you doing here?” Gerard asked gently.
Frank raised and lowered one shoulder. “To see you.”
Gerard sucked air through his nose and rearranged the hold his hand had on the doorknob. “Oh. Okay.”
Frank offered him a smile that felt too big for his face. He could feel his stomach tightening.
“So I went to this meeting the other day,” he began and Gerard’s eyes focused again.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I think I’m getting better, you know?” His fingernails dug into the palms of his hands. “Like, I’m not denying anything anymore. Which is good, I guess.”
“It’s a step in the right direction,” Gerard replied.
The silence fell down upon them again and Frank could sense his irritation. And the next thing he said, he didn’t know why he said it but it just came out and it left him confused, “Do you ever feel like you’re not cut out for the life you’re living?”
And Gerard said, “All the time.”
He sighed and let the silence fall this time because he knew he shouldn’t have come. He felt stupid and he felt embarrassed and he wanted to take everything back and why the fuck does he wake up so early these days?
“So I got a job,” he started again, desperately trying to keep the conversation going like a fire burning out.
Faint smile. “That’s great!” Faint enthusiasm. “What as?” Faint interest.
“Oh you know, just cars and stuff.”
“Cars?”
“Yeah, well it’s only a temporary thing. I just figured I needed to get off my ass, you know? Start supporting myself and what not -”
“- Frank, your feet!”
“What?” He looked at his feet. The stones had cut the bare flesh raw and they were bleeding. It was only until he had looked at them did he feel the sting. “Oh.”
“You should come inside,” Gerard said hurriedly, trying to usher him towards the door. But Frank took a step back.
“No, it’s fine,” he said, sidestepping away. “I should be going anyway.”
“Where?”
He shrugged. “Places.”
Gerard sighed. So Frank turned and tried to hobble away, but a hand on his shoulder spun him round and for a second his stomach leapt because Gerard had this cute little frown on his eyebrow like he was actually concerned for his wellbeing.
“What?”
Gerard’s eyes wondered around for a moment like his brain was trying to grasp the right words, he did that a lot. “I just…it just seems like something’s up with you.”
Frank looked at his chipped bleeding feet. “With me? Why would you think that?”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “The way you’re carrying yourself.”
He shouldn’t have come. Stupid stupid stupid. “Well I’m fine, so.” He could feel the heat filling his cheeks so he shook Gerard’s hand off his shoulder and walked away with as much dignity as his burning feet would allow him.
“And Frank?”
He sighed and turned his head a fraction. Gerard appeared in the corner of his eye. That same frown.
“Just…don’t go looking for trouble, okay?”
Don’t go looking for trouble. “Of course I won’t.”
And as he left he could feel Gerard’s gaze on the back of his head and he tried to ignore the weight on his chest when he told himself again and again that he shouldn’t have come.
He then spent the next two hours walking up and down his block until the bloodstains he left on the sidewalk turned brown.
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[ A/N: So this is super short (like seriously 2 pages on Word) but naturally I felt really shitty about the wait, most of you have probably abandoned this, thank you so much if you haven't! But yeah hopefully the next chapter which was originally the 2nd half of this one will be up really, really soon. And I don't say that often! Well I do, but hey ayayay]
He’ll be in a small, condensed space. Doesn’t really matter where -sometimes it’ll be the boot of a car, sometimes a locked closet, once even the inside of a skip. But around him there’ll be flames; big, raging tongues of fire that dart and flicker at his skin. The worst part is he doesn’t even feel the heat or smell the smoke as it continues to mottle his skin and drench his body in sweat, no he doesn’t feel it and maybe that’s what makes him panic. It’s not the fact that he can’t get out or that no one will hear his screams, it’s that the flames are drawing ever nearer and yet he still can’t gather that one morsel of fear inside him to make him cry out. And he wonders what’s wrong with him, he wonders why even as the heat becomes unbearable he can’t find a reason to keep fighting, to stay alive.
And then he realises that he doesn’t care because his life wasn’t worth fighting for anyway.
Frank opened his eyes slowly, his gaze meeting the ceiling. Once he would’ve woken up gasping or in a cold sweat, the tear tracks fresh on his cheeks, but now the dream came by so often he greeted it with indifference every time he fell asleep. He let his chest rise and fall heavily and rolled onto his side, staring at the room around him. He’d been waking up much earlier recently; sometimes so early he’d spend hours just lying in his bed in that grey mid-morning section of the day – those long dark hours of unbearable silence suspended between night and sunrise.
He sat up and remained still for a few seconds, tucking his knees up to his chest. Everything was grey. Like a vacuum had been placed in the middle of the threadbare carpet and just sucked up all the colours.
Grey, grey, grey.
Maybe it was just the light, the sun not quite rising or whatever and casting everything in almost-shadow - maybe it was just him. Things certainly seemed a lot greyer even when the sun was up. Yes, it was definitely him.
A few days ago he got a job. Well it was more an old friend of his dad’s who took pity on him and happened to own a garage, so he came along some weekends. It wasn’t great money and it wasn’t too dignifying but it was something and it got him out of the house. And the hardest part was cleaning the car grease out of his hair, which was a change.
He sighed and pulled his knees to his chest. The bed was warm but he felt cold, cold in his bones, like the vacuum had taken the warmth from him as well as the colours. He shivered. He was sick of being cold and he was sick of being colourless. No one should feel like this, or they should have a reason to at least. But Frank had no reason. Frank was just bored with the effort of feeling anything else.
He slid out of bed and out of the house, outside it was grey. Grey, grey, grey. He was sick of it, sick of it all so he kicked a stone lying in his path and it made him feel good about himself for a moment. He felt like he wanted to puke but nothing would come up. He felt like he wanted to scream but no words came out.
So Frank was just standing in the middle of his driveway and the world was grey around him when he realised someone who knew exactly how this felt. So he turned and strode out of his front yard and up next door’s driveway and the gravel crunched beneath his bare feet.
“Frank?”
He stopped in the middle of the gravel path because the door was already open. And he looked at the open door and Gerard was frowning.
“Hey!” he said in that way Gerard probably found really annoying and teenage and he started doubting whether he should have come.
“What are you doing here?” Gerard asked gently.
Frank raised and lowered one shoulder. “To see you.”
Gerard sucked air through his nose and rearranged the hold his hand had on the doorknob. “Oh. Okay.”
Frank offered him a smile that felt too big for his face. He could feel his stomach tightening.
“So I went to this meeting the other day,” he began and Gerard’s eyes focused again.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I think I’m getting better, you know?” His fingernails dug into the palms of his hands. “Like, I’m not denying anything anymore. Which is good, I guess.”
“It’s a step in the right direction,” Gerard replied.
The silence fell down upon them again and Frank could sense his irritation. And the next thing he said, he didn’t know why he said it but it just came out and it left him confused, “Do you ever feel like you’re not cut out for the life you’re living?”
And Gerard said, “All the time.”
He sighed and let the silence fall this time because he knew he shouldn’t have come. He felt stupid and he felt embarrassed and he wanted to take everything back and why the fuck does he wake up so early these days?
“So I got a job,” he started again, desperately trying to keep the conversation going like a fire burning out.
Faint smile. “That’s great!” Faint enthusiasm. “What as?” Faint interest.
“Oh you know, just cars and stuff.”
“Cars?”
“Yeah, well it’s only a temporary thing. I just figured I needed to get off my ass, you know? Start supporting myself and what not -”
“- Frank, your feet!”
“What?” He looked at his feet. The stones had cut the bare flesh raw and they were bleeding. It was only until he had looked at them did he feel the sting. “Oh.”
“You should come inside,” Gerard said hurriedly, trying to usher him towards the door. But Frank took a step back.
“No, it’s fine,” he said, sidestepping away. “I should be going anyway.”
“Where?”
He shrugged. “Places.”
Gerard sighed. So Frank turned and tried to hobble away, but a hand on his shoulder spun him round and for a second his stomach leapt because Gerard had this cute little frown on his eyebrow like he was actually concerned for his wellbeing.
“What?”
Gerard’s eyes wondered around for a moment like his brain was trying to grasp the right words, he did that a lot. “I just…it just seems like something’s up with you.”
Frank looked at his chipped bleeding feet. “With me? Why would you think that?”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “The way you’re carrying yourself.”
He shouldn’t have come. Stupid stupid stupid. “Well I’m fine, so.” He could feel the heat filling his cheeks so he shook Gerard’s hand off his shoulder and walked away with as much dignity as his burning feet would allow him.
“And Frank?”
He sighed and turned his head a fraction. Gerard appeared in the corner of his eye. That same frown.
“Just…don’t go looking for trouble, okay?”
Don’t go looking for trouble. “Of course I won’t.”
And as he left he could feel Gerard’s gaze on the back of his head and he tried to ignore the weight on his chest when he told himself again and again that he shouldn’t have come.
He then spent the next two hours walking up and down his block until the bloodstains he left on the sidewalk turned brown.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ A/N: So this is super short (like seriously 2 pages on Word) but naturally I felt really shitty about the wait, most of you have probably abandoned this, thank you so much if you haven't! But yeah hopefully the next chapter which was originally the 2nd half of this one will be up really, really soon. And I don't say that often! Well I do, but hey ayayay]
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