Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Small Petunia of the Galaxy
Chapter 2
What Dreams Are Made Of
My parents were killed when I was fifteen.
That was just three short years ago.
Mikey at the time was twelve.
It was a normal day like any other. On Saturdays, Mom went to the grocery store to stock up on groceries, since she was the only woman in the house and lived with one man and two growing boys, she had to keep the fridge and the pantry well-stocked.
Well, Dad decided he'd go with her this time to make sure she got the right kind of steaks he was going to make on Sunday.
It just had to happen that Saturday.
A gun man came in trying to rob the store.
My dad, was a hero, at least to me he was. He knew right from wrong and he tried his hardest to pass those ethics down to me.
Being the hero that he was, he tried to stop the man, and in the process he was shot in the abdomen. My mom kneeled beside my dad's cooling body sobbing hysterically, she couldn't help herself, this was a man she had loved for twenty years.
And there he was, lying in a puddle of his own blood.
There she was, kneeling in his blood.
The gunman had told her to stop crying, that it wasn't a big deal he was dead, he shouldn't have tried to be the hero.
But she couldn't stop, witnesses said that she said she was trying but she couldn't, it was impossible for her to stop.
So he shot her.
He shot her because it was impossible for her to stop crying over the man she loved.
My Dad was a hero from the beginning of his life up until the very end.
He died to protect his wife, however, he failed.
Mikey and I got the news when we were in school.
We were called out of classes and they brought us to the police station.
They told us and Mikey lost it. He was crying just as hysterically as my Mom was, most likely.
I had to stay composed, I just had to. What kind of older brother would I have looked like if I had started crying as bad as Mikey?
One rebel tear betrayed me though.
The police officer gently pulled me out of the room, telling Mikey we'd just be outside the door.
He just sat there sobbing, rubbing his eyes, his glasses lying on the table.
"I know you're trying to be brave for your brother son." He had said to me.
Sergeant Edwards I think his name was.
"But every once in a while a real man has to cry. I commend you for owning up to being a man and not just turning into a two year old, but it's okay to cry. You just lost your parents kid."
Harsh, but true.
And then I lost it.
I fell to my knees with my head in my hands and cried.
Ten minutes later after I had time to recompose myself and clean my face to make sure my eyes weren't puffy, I walked back into the room.
I wrapped my arms around Mikey and I told him it was going to be okay.
I promised him it would.
What Dreams Are Made Of
My parents were killed when I was fifteen.
That was just three short years ago.
Mikey at the time was twelve.
It was a normal day like any other. On Saturdays, Mom went to the grocery store to stock up on groceries, since she was the only woman in the house and lived with one man and two growing boys, she had to keep the fridge and the pantry well-stocked.
Well, Dad decided he'd go with her this time to make sure she got the right kind of steaks he was going to make on Sunday.
It just had to happen that Saturday.
A gun man came in trying to rob the store.
My dad, was a hero, at least to me he was. He knew right from wrong and he tried his hardest to pass those ethics down to me.
Being the hero that he was, he tried to stop the man, and in the process he was shot in the abdomen. My mom kneeled beside my dad's cooling body sobbing hysterically, she couldn't help herself, this was a man she had loved for twenty years.
And there he was, lying in a puddle of his own blood.
There she was, kneeling in his blood.
The gunman had told her to stop crying, that it wasn't a big deal he was dead, he shouldn't have tried to be the hero.
But she couldn't stop, witnesses said that she said she was trying but she couldn't, it was impossible for her to stop.
So he shot her.
He shot her because it was impossible for her to stop crying over the man she loved.
My Dad was a hero from the beginning of his life up until the very end.
He died to protect his wife, however, he failed.
Mikey and I got the news when we were in school.
We were called out of classes and they brought us to the police station.
They told us and Mikey lost it. He was crying just as hysterically as my Mom was, most likely.
I had to stay composed, I just had to. What kind of older brother would I have looked like if I had started crying as bad as Mikey?
One rebel tear betrayed me though.
The police officer gently pulled me out of the room, telling Mikey we'd just be outside the door.
He just sat there sobbing, rubbing his eyes, his glasses lying on the table.
"I know you're trying to be brave for your brother son." He had said to me.
Sergeant Edwards I think his name was.
"But every once in a while a real man has to cry. I commend you for owning up to being a man and not just turning into a two year old, but it's okay to cry. You just lost your parents kid."
Harsh, but true.
And then I lost it.
I fell to my knees with my head in my hands and cried.
Ten minutes later after I had time to recompose myself and clean my face to make sure my eyes weren't puffy, I walked back into the room.
I wrapped my arms around Mikey and I told him it was going to be okay.
I promised him it would.
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