Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Can't Be Saved
Sitting here listen to My Way Home Is Through You, and it fits this chapter perfectly i think. Enjoy :)
"Why did you do that?!?!" I sobbed. It was gone just like that. It was all gone.
"You need help. And I'm here to help you." he said to me closing the toilet lid and sitting down on top of it.
"I don't want help." I said softly. Standing up the best I could, I stumbled past him trying to make my way back to the living room and out the front door.
"Where are you going?" he asked, grabbing my arm.
"L-let go." I said softly, trying to pull away, But it was no use; I was too weak. I just started to slide down the wall to the floor, Gerard still having a hold of my arm.
Once I reached the floor he let go. I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapped my arms around them, and started rocking back and forth. All I could think about was the sickness that was to come. I started to panic; I didn't want to get sick. I started to sweat and shiver at the same time.
"D-do you h-h-av-e any al-co-hol?" I asked.
"I do, but you don't need any of that. Now come on lets go to the living room." he said reaching his hand out to me.
I grabbed his hand and he pulled me to my feet leading me to couch.
"Pl-lease, c-can I h-have s-something? I-i feel sick" I begged, grabbing my stomach. It started to cramp.
"No, you can have water if you want." he said as he sat me on the couch.
"W-why are you doing t-this to me?" I asked him.
"It's what I get paid to do." he said walking into the kitchen. "Here." He handing me a glass of water.
"W-what's that sup-posed to mean?" I asked scared out my mind.
"I get paid to help people like you." he said sitting down in the arm chair next to the couch.
" People l-like me?"
"Yes, I was paid by someone who cares about you to get you sober and get your life back on track." he said turning on the t.v.
"W-who paid you?" I asked timidly.
"A lady named Linda," he said looking at me. "Mean anything to you?"
I just stared at him. Linda is my mothers name. I figured she didn't care anymore after her and my dad threw me out when I was 17. How did she know I was so bad?
"T-that's m-my mothers name." I said shaking tears forming in my eyes.
"She wants you back home and is paying me a fee to try and save you."
"I-i wanna leave." I said standing up but failing and almost falling down. I made my way almost to the door. When he stood in front of me. "W-what are you doing. L-let me leave." I said trying to pull away from his grip.
"I can't do that." he said pulling me back toward the couch.
"Let me go!" I screamed yanking my arm out of his grasp.
"Ah ah ah. I don't think so, My job has just begun." he said grabbing me again and shoving me onto the couch.
"Please. I need something. Alcohol, pills, my stuff you flushed. Please I feel sick." I begged.
"It's called withdrawal sweetheart. It will be over soon." He smiled at me, patted my knee, and headed back to the kitchen. I pulled my knees away, pulled them to my chest, and held them there. I felt like a prisoner. Kidnapped even. I decided to see if I could make a run for it. I scrambled off the couch and bolted for the door, but I ran into something soft and it grabbed my by the arms. I tried to get free but I was too weak.
"I told you you can't leave till I'm done and you're sober." he said to me as he pushed me backwards.
"PLEASE! LET ME GO!" I screamed as loud as I could and started thrashing around as best I could. "LET ME GO!" I screamed again tears swelling in my eyes.
"Please," I whimpered. "Please."
He was still holding me but instead of holding my arms he was was hugging me. It felt safe. For once, I felt safe, and that's when it all came pouring out all the tears I had saved up over the years came pouring out of me. I clung to his shirt sobbing. He just sat there holding me and rubbing my dirty hair.
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"Why did you do that?!?!" I sobbed. It was gone just like that. It was all gone.
"You need help. And I'm here to help you." he said to me closing the toilet lid and sitting down on top of it.
"I don't want help." I said softly. Standing up the best I could, I stumbled past him trying to make my way back to the living room and out the front door.
"Where are you going?" he asked, grabbing my arm.
"L-let go." I said softly, trying to pull away, But it was no use; I was too weak. I just started to slide down the wall to the floor, Gerard still having a hold of my arm.
Once I reached the floor he let go. I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapped my arms around them, and started rocking back and forth. All I could think about was the sickness that was to come. I started to panic; I didn't want to get sick. I started to sweat and shiver at the same time.
"D-do you h-h-av-e any al-co-hol?" I asked.
"I do, but you don't need any of that. Now come on lets go to the living room." he said reaching his hand out to me.
I grabbed his hand and he pulled me to my feet leading me to couch.
"Pl-lease, c-can I h-have s-something? I-i feel sick" I begged, grabbing my stomach. It started to cramp.
"No, you can have water if you want." he said as he sat me on the couch.
"W-why are you doing t-this to me?" I asked him.
"It's what I get paid to do." he said walking into the kitchen. "Here." He handing me a glass of water.
"W-what's that sup-posed to mean?" I asked scared out my mind.
"I get paid to help people like you." he said sitting down in the arm chair next to the couch.
" People l-like me?"
"Yes, I was paid by someone who cares about you to get you sober and get your life back on track." he said turning on the t.v.
"W-who paid you?" I asked timidly.
"A lady named Linda," he said looking at me. "Mean anything to you?"
I just stared at him. Linda is my mothers name. I figured she didn't care anymore after her and my dad threw me out when I was 17. How did she know I was so bad?
"T-that's m-my mothers name." I said shaking tears forming in my eyes.
"She wants you back home and is paying me a fee to try and save you."
"I-i wanna leave." I said standing up but failing and almost falling down. I made my way almost to the door. When he stood in front of me. "W-what are you doing. L-let me leave." I said trying to pull away from his grip.
"I can't do that." he said pulling me back toward the couch.
"Let me go!" I screamed yanking my arm out of his grasp.
"Ah ah ah. I don't think so, My job has just begun." he said grabbing me again and shoving me onto the couch.
"Please. I need something. Alcohol, pills, my stuff you flushed. Please I feel sick." I begged.
"It's called withdrawal sweetheart. It will be over soon." He smiled at me, patted my knee, and headed back to the kitchen. I pulled my knees away, pulled them to my chest, and held them there. I felt like a prisoner. Kidnapped even. I decided to see if I could make a run for it. I scrambled off the couch and bolted for the door, but I ran into something soft and it grabbed my by the arms. I tried to get free but I was too weak.
"I told you you can't leave till I'm done and you're sober." he said to me as he pushed me backwards.
"PLEASE! LET ME GO!" I screamed as loud as I could and started thrashing around as best I could. "LET ME GO!" I screamed again tears swelling in my eyes.
"Please," I whimpered. "Please."
He was still holding me but instead of holding my arms he was was hugging me. It felt safe. For once, I felt safe, and that's when it all came pouring out all the tears I had saved up over the years came pouring out of me. I clung to his shirt sobbing. He just sat there holding me and rubbing my dirty hair.
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