Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Comfortably Numb
0 reviewsGerard doesn't mean to leave Mikey behind. Oneshot! For a friend. Highschool AU.
0Unrated
Shit. Maybe they won't see me. Shit shit shit.
I always hated walking down this hallway because I knew that 90% of the time, I was going to end up in a locker. And this time was no different. I crept down the hallway, blending in with the chatting adolescent students around me, doing my best to hug my folders to my chest and hide my face from them. But, try as I might, they succeeded, and dragged me by the back of my shirt out of the crowd and threw me violently with a metallic crash against the lockers. How much I do hate the stupid population.
"Little Michael James," He needn't be so cocky, as he hisses in my face - his name is Frasier. I don't bother replying, I don't like giving him the time of day. I don't care how right he is about me - he might be right, but I'll punish myself, thank you, I don't need anyone else to do it for me. "Fancy a black eye? Or maybe you want to spend lunch in a locker? Maybe even get a new costume for the play, entirely black and blue!" I sighed and rolled my eyes. He needed to get a little bit more - creative. He stopped me quickly by slapping his hand across my cheek and leaving it red raw. I breathed in sharply and stared back at him icily.
"Not even gonna talk?" He shouted, little flecks of spit landing and settling on my cheeks. "Listen here, you worthless piece of shit," He hissed, his fingers digging into my scalp. "Back off my girlfriend, okay? I saw you looking at her. She's smoking hot and way out of your league, and she's mine," He put a hand on my throat and yanked me behind the lockers. I tried to get out of his grip but failed, only managing to choke a bit, leaving me breathless and blue. "If you go near her ever again, I'll stamp on your fucking throat, then slit it open, you ugly orphan scum bastard," He growled, holding his face close to mine. "You hear me?" He whispered, before beckoning his friends over. I sighed. Yep - it was happening again.
Frasier kicked me to the ground and his friends joined in, kicking me hard in the head and chest, leaving dark bruises on my body. I swore I could feel a rib crack, but I'm sure that was just the sound of my glasses smashing on the floor beside me. They landed with a small crack but met their defeat when Frasier brought his foot down upon them and they shattered with a satisfying crunch. They laughed, high fiving each other and giving me one last kick before they pulled their backpacks on and headed off to most likely smoke weed behind the bike sheds. I lay there for a few moments before wrestling to my feet, limping and bleeding a little from my head as I wandered down the hallways, and snuck out the back entrance. I moved across the school field slowly and slipped over the fence with some trouble, but managed, walking home slowly to make sure Gerard didn't notice my sudden appearance at home when I should be at school.
I arrived home, just 5 or so minutes early, and went straight to the bathroom, locking myself in. I needed to get the blood off my head and at least check the damage - not that Gerard would notice anyway. He was so busy with Frank, he never really remembered me anymore. Not like he used to - he used to always be there. Now I rarely even saw him for more than ten minutes. I pulled off my shirt and stared at myself.
Oh, how I hated myself.
My skin was sunken and pale, almost grey, in places - dark black and blue, red's, yellows, purples covered my chest and head. A large gash had settled itself on my forehead and was a little deeper than I imagined - still, I'd had worse. I sighed and splashed water into my face enough until I felt strong enough to not slash my legs open.
"M-Mikey!" I heard Gerard call. He was drunk, but I wasn't sure if it was on alcohol or happiness. "I have Frankie over! Come say hi!" I carefully opened the bathroom door, pulling my shirt on. I peeped my head around the stairs and nodded to Frank, who stared back at me worriedly.
"Hello Mikey. You alright?" He asked, touching his head exactly where the cut on mine was. I nodded.
"Alright." I replied, mirroring his actions and patting the cut on my head. He bit his lip and looked back to Gerard, who seemed particularly oblivious to the small silent conversation me and Frank were participating in.
"Me and Frankie are going to be in my room. See you in a bit!" Gerard ran up the stairs, Frank following hand in hand, offering me a small sad smile as he was dragged past. I nodded and turned on my heel, returning to my bedroom and throwing myself down on the bed. I reached over to the only cassette player I owned, and slid in my 'Dark Side Of The Moon' Cassette tape, forgetting my troubles, if only for 43 minutes. Listening to music was the best part of my day - No one mattered anyway, I didn't have any troubles, I wasn't me anymore.
I was ripped from my 'dead and awake' slumber, by brutal thumping on my door. I sighed and pulled the headphones off my ears, wrenching my bones up to a sitting position.
"Come in," I said, loudly enough. Gerard barged his way into my room - he stunk of alcohol, sex, and sweat; the stench was repugnant.
"M-Mikey.." Gerard wobbled towards the bed and almost fell flat on his face. He tumbled next to me and narrowly missed hitting his head against the wall. "F-Frank said he wants to take a break," He sobbed, burying his head in the sheets.
"Why?" I asked softly, turning off my music and rubbing a hand over his head. He shook his head and gripped the sheets. Frank always seemed to be such a lovely boy, I couldn't imagine why he would ever hurt Gerard like this.
"You." He hissed, avoiding my gaze. My mouth dropped and I removed my hand from him. "It's your fucking fault." He may have been drunk - but the words still felt like lashes of a whip. They still left me with white hot burns. They still reminded me that I was in fact the pathetic loser I thought I was.
"Me?" I whispered, horrified. What had I done? What could I have possibly done now - I've done so many things to so many people, it's hard to keep track - especially when you have no idea what you've done. So many things are my fault. Everything is my fault. Everything.
"He says I need to pay attention to my relationship with you before I can be with him." He sniffed, tears splashing onto the sheets. "I don't see why. We're fine right? We're fine?" He sobbed. I sighed and dragged him onto my lap. He was particularly light for an eighteen year old. "I loved him Mikey!" He cried openly into my lap, whilst I sat and rested my body on his.
"We're.. Fine." I ran my fingers through his hair. "Come on. He still loves you. You just need to give him some time," I whispered, despite knowing nothing about relationships. I had never been in one - how was I supposed to know?
"He doesn't love me now you've fucking screwed it up," He mumbled, throwing his fists down on the mattress. I let out a choked sob and curled away from him. He was the only person that I knew loved me - although he never showed it, he still loved me, and I knew it - yet suddenly he had turned into one of them. I screw everything up. I'm a fucking screw up. That's how it works. "No, I'm - no, Mikey, I.." He reached out for me and I scrambled away from him, crying and pushing my face into my hands.
Gerard was abruptly sick over the side of the bed and onto the floor. I groaned and patted his back, still sniffling and sobbing quietly.
"You need to go to bed." He nodded and lied there for a while, eventually falling asleep with his legs on me and his head very nearly in the vomit. This was definitely not what I meant by bed. I pushed my headphones back into my ears and switched my cassette back on, falling once again into that darkness. I wanted to push everyone out.
I think I just wanted out.
Once I was sure Gerard was fully asleep on my floor, I snuck out of the room and into the bathroom, locking it behind me. I reached behind the bathroom cupboard and pulled out my razor.
I had been awaiting this moment for a while. I had tried to stop - but I needed to punish myself for letting them get to me. I agreed with them - but shit, they were right. I took off each piece of clothing carefully, folding them and putting them on the bathroom side. I stared at my naked body for a few moments in the mirror, before nodding to myself and grabbing the razor. I turned on the shower and stepped inside, shutting the doors behind me and shutting out the world. I leant my back against the back wall of the shower and let the hot water run down my cheeks and across my torso, before bringing the razor down on my arm and feeling a painful release. I watched in a daze as the scarlet mess was washed down the plug hole.
I brought the razor down again and again, gasping occasionally in the pain and relief it provided. Once I felt I had punished myself enough I turned on the cold water and stood underneath it until I thought I had gone blue. I stepped slowly from the ice cold shower and fell to my knees on the bathroom floor, curling up on my side and bringing my knees up to my chest.
I was such a pathetic loser. I hated myself. I hated everything about myself. I hated my straw like hair, my bad eyesight, my awfully broken nose and my teeth which were in dire need of a dentist. I hated my grey skin and the scars it was covered in. I hated the bones which stuck out from under my skin, I hated my smile, I hated my personality, I hated every aspect of me which made me.. me. No one hated me more than I did.
I sobbed into my knees for another hour, feeling faint from the loss of blood. I dragged myself from the floor and bandaged myself crudely, enough to stop me from fainting and being found dead on my own bathroom floor. I lay there for a while longer, before crawling back to my bedroom, and putting my 'Pink Floyd: The Wall' tape into my cassette. It was the album I always listened to when I felt like this. Everything just fitted. It sounded like it was about my life. About me. For me.
Authors Note*(For those who have never listened to The Wall, I must just point out that it's an experience you're seriously missing out on. If you haven't then please, just go, go right now and listen to it. It's one of my favourite albums in the whole world and has so many different levels and emotions to it - you can listen to some of the songs as if they're just songs and others as if they tell your whole life story. It covers loads of issues without you even realising and also tells a story, a story of a man who can't cope with the life around him and builds a wall to stop them from getting to him. A lot of people might refer to it as "one big fucking trippy mess": me included, but it's also this amazingly well crafted album that really makes you think. It's really helped me and stuff, so, yeah, I'd suggest it. Try watching the movie too - also another life changing experience. Kinda makes you just sit and think about your life after watching it, despite it not having a single piece of proper dialogue in the whole film. It's just so insightful and original with underlying themes and.. I don't know. Anyway, just thought I'd add that. I just.. really love The Wall.)
I slung my backpack onto my back and sauntered down the road after Gerard, who was walking ahead, hiding his tears from me. He probably didn't dare speak to me after what he said last night - I didn't blame him. Who'd want me for a brother? Frankly, I'm surprised he hadn't said those things to me before.
I managed to get through the day without getting punched, and things were looking up, if only just. I snuck through the hallways, almost at the door when I heard the familiar bark of my name.
"Oh Little Michael James?" I groaned and stopped in my tracks. People walked into me as they walked past but mostly ignored me - no one spared a thought - no one ever did. I turned and glared at him icily. "You ready for the prom, Michael James? Make sure you won't be looking at my girl, you worthless fuck!" He jeered, shouting down the hallway. He signalled and I swivelled around, seeing his two goonies behind me. One held my arms in place whilst the other took swings at me, most of them being particularly successful. I think I might have heard my nose crack.
"Oi! Bland!" I heard another, warmer, more familiar voice call. I peered behind Frasier through blackening eyes and sighed when I saw Gerard, stood behind him. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" He hissed. Yeah, great, now he was stepping in. He was going to get himself killed. Frasier [Bland] turned and faced Gerard.
"Who the fuck are you?" He snarled, jabbing Gerard in the chest.
"I'm his brother," Gerard growled, pushing Frasier back. He was small - but not weak. Frasier was mostly braun - Gerard had more brain than he liked to think.
"There's two of you fucking losers?" He jeered. I was loosely hanging in the other to boys' hands, since they had stopped beating the shit out of me to watch the fight that was going down, with all the other kids around us.
"Fuck you, Frasier. Fuck off back to your pathetic life." Frasier pushed a hand against Gerard's throat and slammed him against the lockers.
"Why have you suddenly come to the rescue?" He hissed in Gerard's face. Gerard stared at him, his gaze hardening. I could see that he was bewildered, confused - but he didn't want to show it.
"What are you talking about?" Gerard replied, holding his stance. Frasier let go of his throat and stepped towards me, gripping me by the shirt and dragging me over to where he and Gerard once stood.
"Do you think this is the first time?" He asked, digging a hand into my hair and shoving my down against the floor. He kicked me hard in the stomach repeatedly, until he was satisfied. He put his foot on my throat and pressed, squeezing the air from my body. I choked and reached out, my eyes watering profusely as I struggled to stay afloat. "Because it's not." He hissed. "Your worthless fuck of a brother.. why haven't you killed him yet?" He laughed and moved his foot against my neck. "I'm surprised he hasn't tried himself." Frasier pushed his foot further against me until I couldn't feel anymore air. I squeaked and lay feebly, observing what was happening as much as I could before I diec from a lack of oxygen. Gerard lunged at Frasier, punching him hard in the jaw and knocking Frasier's head against the lockers. Frasier wasn't exactly the smartest person, and took a while to retailiate.
"Orphanage Scum Faggot!" Frasier yelled, causing a sharp intake of air from Gerard. Frasier knocked a hard punch into Gerard's eye. He replied quickly and was particularly agile, though still staggered from the aggressive thumping.
"You don't know a fucking thing," Gerard hissed, punching Frasier once again and knocking him off his feet. Frasier lay there for a while, groaning as his friends helped him up. Very few people crowded around me, including a girl who I recognized instantly. She was Frasier's girlfriend.
"Is he breathing?" She panicked, quietly. "Someone needs to call an ambulance!" Gerard fell to his knees and pulled me towards him, his whole body shaking as he reached for my cheeks. I could hear him openly sobbing but I couldn't reach out to him like I used to. I felt very calm, peaceful - wrapped up in my own thoughts, clouded in darkness and fog. Gerard shook his head desperately, and that was the last time I saw him, until I woke up in a hospital the next day.
There was a soft knock on my hospital door. I adjusted myself in the bed as they entered, and I beamed softly as Gerard shut the door behind him and sat down in the chair beside me. He leant forward and pushed my cassette player into my hands. I nodded in thanks and and held his hands in my own, sighing. He stroked a hand down my scarred arm and scanned me worriedly, his eyes sad as he bit his lip.
"I ignored you." He offered, quietly. I glanced up at him and tilted my head. "You tried to tell me and I ignored you." He had ignored me, that was true. But it was never his fault. What I would give to be in love - once you've got it, you would want to appreciate every moment. I didn't blame him. I reached out and put my hands behind his neck, pulling him in towards me.
"I should have made it more obvious." I replied quietly, pushing my forehead up against his. He shook his head and let the tears sprout from his eyes. They dripped off his particularly long eyelashes and onto the hospital bed.
"No, this is my fault." He pushed his lips against my temple and hugged me close to him. "I'm so sorry for saying those things yesterday, Frank was right, it wasn't your fault, I.. I was out of my mind." He rocked himself back and forth, and I held him in my arms. Things had changed very suddenly for us, but I didn't mind.
"You didn't mean it. I know." I trembled, making ringlets in his hair with my fingers. "What happened? Yesterday?" I asked, softly. Gerard's cheeks burnt scarlet as he stared down at his fingers, tangling them. He held his hands over his face as he breathed in deeply, sighing before removing his hands and revealing his tear stained cheeks.
"..Your heart stopped." He said, quietly. My mouth dropped as I stared at him. I felt fine - well, my chest was sort of burning and it felt like someone had been jumping on it - but I felt pretty much okay. "I tried to resuscitate you, b-but.." He reached out and encouraged me to cuddle in to him, but I ended up lied on his lap and against his chest. "You just wouldn't wake up, and the others had to rip me off of you, because I wouldn't let go." He started to sob, holding my head against him and rocking it in his lap. "B-but you breathed in, and I grabbed you, and.." I squeezed him tight to silence him and let him hold me in his lap for a few minutes in silence.
"How long?" He asked, breaking the long silence. I assumed he meant the bullying - maybe the cutting. I don't know. Too long.
"Since people stopped caring about who I was, and rather about themselves," I replied, pushing my palms against my eyes. "I just had to - get the anger out." I wrapped my self with my arms and hid them from view, but Gerard held them and kissed my hand.
"Don't you ever fucking listen to them, Mikey," He suddenly stared at me, fiercly, but sincere. "They're stupid bastards who want you for their doomsday plan - don't give into them Mikes, fucking don't." He insisted, shaking my shoulders slightly. He often came out with the most odd things, but they uplifted me, because no one was like my brother, and I wished I was like that. "You're beautiful and intelligent. You're everything to me okay? I love you." I stared at him, dumbfounded. I wasn't entirely sure what to say and I just wanted to curl up in his lap and never leave.
"I love you too." I offered a small smile and nuzzled my face into his chest.
"Never do this to yourself, ever again. Please. I.. don't think my heart could take it." He croaked, pulling me tight against him. I never really thought about him when I did it. I never really thought he would even care.
"I'll try." I responded, quietly. I would try. If it was a promise, then I would try. I just don't think he understood how hard it was to stop.
"Promise?" He held out his little finger and I hooked my own around his.
"Promise." I replied, letting him pull me into a tight hug.
I always hated walking down this hallway because I knew that 90% of the time, I was going to end up in a locker. And this time was no different. I crept down the hallway, blending in with the chatting adolescent students around me, doing my best to hug my folders to my chest and hide my face from them. But, try as I might, they succeeded, and dragged me by the back of my shirt out of the crowd and threw me violently with a metallic crash against the lockers. How much I do hate the stupid population.
"Little Michael James," He needn't be so cocky, as he hisses in my face - his name is Frasier. I don't bother replying, I don't like giving him the time of day. I don't care how right he is about me - he might be right, but I'll punish myself, thank you, I don't need anyone else to do it for me. "Fancy a black eye? Or maybe you want to spend lunch in a locker? Maybe even get a new costume for the play, entirely black and blue!" I sighed and rolled my eyes. He needed to get a little bit more - creative. He stopped me quickly by slapping his hand across my cheek and leaving it red raw. I breathed in sharply and stared back at him icily.
"Not even gonna talk?" He shouted, little flecks of spit landing and settling on my cheeks. "Listen here, you worthless piece of shit," He hissed, his fingers digging into my scalp. "Back off my girlfriend, okay? I saw you looking at her. She's smoking hot and way out of your league, and she's mine," He put a hand on my throat and yanked me behind the lockers. I tried to get out of his grip but failed, only managing to choke a bit, leaving me breathless and blue. "If you go near her ever again, I'll stamp on your fucking throat, then slit it open, you ugly orphan scum bastard," He growled, holding his face close to mine. "You hear me?" He whispered, before beckoning his friends over. I sighed. Yep - it was happening again.
Frasier kicked me to the ground and his friends joined in, kicking me hard in the head and chest, leaving dark bruises on my body. I swore I could feel a rib crack, but I'm sure that was just the sound of my glasses smashing on the floor beside me. They landed with a small crack but met their defeat when Frasier brought his foot down upon them and they shattered with a satisfying crunch. They laughed, high fiving each other and giving me one last kick before they pulled their backpacks on and headed off to most likely smoke weed behind the bike sheds. I lay there for a few moments before wrestling to my feet, limping and bleeding a little from my head as I wandered down the hallways, and snuck out the back entrance. I moved across the school field slowly and slipped over the fence with some trouble, but managed, walking home slowly to make sure Gerard didn't notice my sudden appearance at home when I should be at school.
I arrived home, just 5 or so minutes early, and went straight to the bathroom, locking myself in. I needed to get the blood off my head and at least check the damage - not that Gerard would notice anyway. He was so busy with Frank, he never really remembered me anymore. Not like he used to - he used to always be there. Now I rarely even saw him for more than ten minutes. I pulled off my shirt and stared at myself.
Oh, how I hated myself.
My skin was sunken and pale, almost grey, in places - dark black and blue, red's, yellows, purples covered my chest and head. A large gash had settled itself on my forehead and was a little deeper than I imagined - still, I'd had worse. I sighed and splashed water into my face enough until I felt strong enough to not slash my legs open.
"M-Mikey!" I heard Gerard call. He was drunk, but I wasn't sure if it was on alcohol or happiness. "I have Frankie over! Come say hi!" I carefully opened the bathroom door, pulling my shirt on. I peeped my head around the stairs and nodded to Frank, who stared back at me worriedly.
"Hello Mikey. You alright?" He asked, touching his head exactly where the cut on mine was. I nodded.
"Alright." I replied, mirroring his actions and patting the cut on my head. He bit his lip and looked back to Gerard, who seemed particularly oblivious to the small silent conversation me and Frank were participating in.
"Me and Frankie are going to be in my room. See you in a bit!" Gerard ran up the stairs, Frank following hand in hand, offering me a small sad smile as he was dragged past. I nodded and turned on my heel, returning to my bedroom and throwing myself down on the bed. I reached over to the only cassette player I owned, and slid in my 'Dark Side Of The Moon' Cassette tape, forgetting my troubles, if only for 43 minutes. Listening to music was the best part of my day - No one mattered anyway, I didn't have any troubles, I wasn't me anymore.
I was ripped from my 'dead and awake' slumber, by brutal thumping on my door. I sighed and pulled the headphones off my ears, wrenching my bones up to a sitting position.
"Come in," I said, loudly enough. Gerard barged his way into my room - he stunk of alcohol, sex, and sweat; the stench was repugnant.
"M-Mikey.." Gerard wobbled towards the bed and almost fell flat on his face. He tumbled next to me and narrowly missed hitting his head against the wall. "F-Frank said he wants to take a break," He sobbed, burying his head in the sheets.
"Why?" I asked softly, turning off my music and rubbing a hand over his head. He shook his head and gripped the sheets. Frank always seemed to be such a lovely boy, I couldn't imagine why he would ever hurt Gerard like this.
"You." He hissed, avoiding my gaze. My mouth dropped and I removed my hand from him. "It's your fucking fault." He may have been drunk - but the words still felt like lashes of a whip. They still left me with white hot burns. They still reminded me that I was in fact the pathetic loser I thought I was.
"Me?" I whispered, horrified. What had I done? What could I have possibly done now - I've done so many things to so many people, it's hard to keep track - especially when you have no idea what you've done. So many things are my fault. Everything is my fault. Everything.
"He says I need to pay attention to my relationship with you before I can be with him." He sniffed, tears splashing onto the sheets. "I don't see why. We're fine right? We're fine?" He sobbed. I sighed and dragged him onto my lap. He was particularly light for an eighteen year old. "I loved him Mikey!" He cried openly into my lap, whilst I sat and rested my body on his.
"We're.. Fine." I ran my fingers through his hair. "Come on. He still loves you. You just need to give him some time," I whispered, despite knowing nothing about relationships. I had never been in one - how was I supposed to know?
"He doesn't love me now you've fucking screwed it up," He mumbled, throwing his fists down on the mattress. I let out a choked sob and curled away from him. He was the only person that I knew loved me - although he never showed it, he still loved me, and I knew it - yet suddenly he had turned into one of them. I screw everything up. I'm a fucking screw up. That's how it works. "No, I'm - no, Mikey, I.." He reached out for me and I scrambled away from him, crying and pushing my face into my hands.
Gerard was abruptly sick over the side of the bed and onto the floor. I groaned and patted his back, still sniffling and sobbing quietly.
"You need to go to bed." He nodded and lied there for a while, eventually falling asleep with his legs on me and his head very nearly in the vomit. This was definitely not what I meant by bed. I pushed my headphones back into my ears and switched my cassette back on, falling once again into that darkness. I wanted to push everyone out.
I think I just wanted out.
Once I was sure Gerard was fully asleep on my floor, I snuck out of the room and into the bathroom, locking it behind me. I reached behind the bathroom cupboard and pulled out my razor.
I had been awaiting this moment for a while. I had tried to stop - but I needed to punish myself for letting them get to me. I agreed with them - but shit, they were right. I took off each piece of clothing carefully, folding them and putting them on the bathroom side. I stared at my naked body for a few moments in the mirror, before nodding to myself and grabbing the razor. I turned on the shower and stepped inside, shutting the doors behind me and shutting out the world. I leant my back against the back wall of the shower and let the hot water run down my cheeks and across my torso, before bringing the razor down on my arm and feeling a painful release. I watched in a daze as the scarlet mess was washed down the plug hole.
I brought the razor down again and again, gasping occasionally in the pain and relief it provided. Once I felt I had punished myself enough I turned on the cold water and stood underneath it until I thought I had gone blue. I stepped slowly from the ice cold shower and fell to my knees on the bathroom floor, curling up on my side and bringing my knees up to my chest.
I was such a pathetic loser. I hated myself. I hated everything about myself. I hated my straw like hair, my bad eyesight, my awfully broken nose and my teeth which were in dire need of a dentist. I hated my grey skin and the scars it was covered in. I hated the bones which stuck out from under my skin, I hated my smile, I hated my personality, I hated every aspect of me which made me.. me. No one hated me more than I did.
I sobbed into my knees for another hour, feeling faint from the loss of blood. I dragged myself from the floor and bandaged myself crudely, enough to stop me from fainting and being found dead on my own bathroom floor. I lay there for a while longer, before crawling back to my bedroom, and putting my 'Pink Floyd: The Wall' tape into my cassette. It was the album I always listened to when I felt like this. Everything just fitted. It sounded like it was about my life. About me. For me.
Authors Note*(For those who have never listened to The Wall, I must just point out that it's an experience you're seriously missing out on. If you haven't then please, just go, go right now and listen to it. It's one of my favourite albums in the whole world and has so many different levels and emotions to it - you can listen to some of the songs as if they're just songs and others as if they tell your whole life story. It covers loads of issues without you even realising and also tells a story, a story of a man who can't cope with the life around him and builds a wall to stop them from getting to him. A lot of people might refer to it as "one big fucking trippy mess": me included, but it's also this amazingly well crafted album that really makes you think. It's really helped me and stuff, so, yeah, I'd suggest it. Try watching the movie too - also another life changing experience. Kinda makes you just sit and think about your life after watching it, despite it not having a single piece of proper dialogue in the whole film. It's just so insightful and original with underlying themes and.. I don't know. Anyway, just thought I'd add that. I just.. really love The Wall.)
I slung my backpack onto my back and sauntered down the road after Gerard, who was walking ahead, hiding his tears from me. He probably didn't dare speak to me after what he said last night - I didn't blame him. Who'd want me for a brother? Frankly, I'm surprised he hadn't said those things to me before.
I managed to get through the day without getting punched, and things were looking up, if only just. I snuck through the hallways, almost at the door when I heard the familiar bark of my name.
"Oh Little Michael James?" I groaned and stopped in my tracks. People walked into me as they walked past but mostly ignored me - no one spared a thought - no one ever did. I turned and glared at him icily. "You ready for the prom, Michael James? Make sure you won't be looking at my girl, you worthless fuck!" He jeered, shouting down the hallway. He signalled and I swivelled around, seeing his two goonies behind me. One held my arms in place whilst the other took swings at me, most of them being particularly successful. I think I might have heard my nose crack.
"Oi! Bland!" I heard another, warmer, more familiar voice call. I peered behind Frasier through blackening eyes and sighed when I saw Gerard, stood behind him. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" He hissed. Yeah, great, now he was stepping in. He was going to get himself killed. Frasier [Bland] turned and faced Gerard.
"Who the fuck are you?" He snarled, jabbing Gerard in the chest.
"I'm his brother," Gerard growled, pushing Frasier back. He was small - but not weak. Frasier was mostly braun - Gerard had more brain than he liked to think.
"There's two of you fucking losers?" He jeered. I was loosely hanging in the other to boys' hands, since they had stopped beating the shit out of me to watch the fight that was going down, with all the other kids around us.
"Fuck you, Frasier. Fuck off back to your pathetic life." Frasier pushed a hand against Gerard's throat and slammed him against the lockers.
"Why have you suddenly come to the rescue?" He hissed in Gerard's face. Gerard stared at him, his gaze hardening. I could see that he was bewildered, confused - but he didn't want to show it.
"What are you talking about?" Gerard replied, holding his stance. Frasier let go of his throat and stepped towards me, gripping me by the shirt and dragging me over to where he and Gerard once stood.
"Do you think this is the first time?" He asked, digging a hand into my hair and shoving my down against the floor. He kicked me hard in the stomach repeatedly, until he was satisfied. He put his foot on my throat and pressed, squeezing the air from my body. I choked and reached out, my eyes watering profusely as I struggled to stay afloat. "Because it's not." He hissed. "Your worthless fuck of a brother.. why haven't you killed him yet?" He laughed and moved his foot against my neck. "I'm surprised he hasn't tried himself." Frasier pushed his foot further against me until I couldn't feel anymore air. I squeaked and lay feebly, observing what was happening as much as I could before I diec from a lack of oxygen. Gerard lunged at Frasier, punching him hard in the jaw and knocking Frasier's head against the lockers. Frasier wasn't exactly the smartest person, and took a while to retailiate.
"Orphanage Scum Faggot!" Frasier yelled, causing a sharp intake of air from Gerard. Frasier knocked a hard punch into Gerard's eye. He replied quickly and was particularly agile, though still staggered from the aggressive thumping.
"You don't know a fucking thing," Gerard hissed, punching Frasier once again and knocking him off his feet. Frasier lay there for a while, groaning as his friends helped him up. Very few people crowded around me, including a girl who I recognized instantly. She was Frasier's girlfriend.
"Is he breathing?" She panicked, quietly. "Someone needs to call an ambulance!" Gerard fell to his knees and pulled me towards him, his whole body shaking as he reached for my cheeks. I could hear him openly sobbing but I couldn't reach out to him like I used to. I felt very calm, peaceful - wrapped up in my own thoughts, clouded in darkness and fog. Gerard shook his head desperately, and that was the last time I saw him, until I woke up in a hospital the next day.
There was a soft knock on my hospital door. I adjusted myself in the bed as they entered, and I beamed softly as Gerard shut the door behind him and sat down in the chair beside me. He leant forward and pushed my cassette player into my hands. I nodded in thanks and and held his hands in my own, sighing. He stroked a hand down my scarred arm and scanned me worriedly, his eyes sad as he bit his lip.
"I ignored you." He offered, quietly. I glanced up at him and tilted my head. "You tried to tell me and I ignored you." He had ignored me, that was true. But it was never his fault. What I would give to be in love - once you've got it, you would want to appreciate every moment. I didn't blame him. I reached out and put my hands behind his neck, pulling him in towards me.
"I should have made it more obvious." I replied quietly, pushing my forehead up against his. He shook his head and let the tears sprout from his eyes. They dripped off his particularly long eyelashes and onto the hospital bed.
"No, this is my fault." He pushed his lips against my temple and hugged me close to him. "I'm so sorry for saying those things yesterday, Frank was right, it wasn't your fault, I.. I was out of my mind." He rocked himself back and forth, and I held him in my arms. Things had changed very suddenly for us, but I didn't mind.
"You didn't mean it. I know." I trembled, making ringlets in his hair with my fingers. "What happened? Yesterday?" I asked, softly. Gerard's cheeks burnt scarlet as he stared down at his fingers, tangling them. He held his hands over his face as he breathed in deeply, sighing before removing his hands and revealing his tear stained cheeks.
"..Your heart stopped." He said, quietly. My mouth dropped as I stared at him. I felt fine - well, my chest was sort of burning and it felt like someone had been jumping on it - but I felt pretty much okay. "I tried to resuscitate you, b-but.." He reached out and encouraged me to cuddle in to him, but I ended up lied on his lap and against his chest. "You just wouldn't wake up, and the others had to rip me off of you, because I wouldn't let go." He started to sob, holding my head against him and rocking it in his lap. "B-but you breathed in, and I grabbed you, and.." I squeezed him tight to silence him and let him hold me in his lap for a few minutes in silence.
"How long?" He asked, breaking the long silence. I assumed he meant the bullying - maybe the cutting. I don't know. Too long.
"Since people stopped caring about who I was, and rather about themselves," I replied, pushing my palms against my eyes. "I just had to - get the anger out." I wrapped my self with my arms and hid them from view, but Gerard held them and kissed my hand.
"Don't you ever fucking listen to them, Mikey," He suddenly stared at me, fiercly, but sincere. "They're stupid bastards who want you for their doomsday plan - don't give into them Mikes, fucking don't." He insisted, shaking my shoulders slightly. He often came out with the most odd things, but they uplifted me, because no one was like my brother, and I wished I was like that. "You're beautiful and intelligent. You're everything to me okay? I love you." I stared at him, dumbfounded. I wasn't entirely sure what to say and I just wanted to curl up in his lap and never leave.
"I love you too." I offered a small smile and nuzzled my face into his chest.
"Never do this to yourself, ever again. Please. I.. don't think my heart could take it." He croaked, pulling me tight against him. I never really thought about him when I did it. I never really thought he would even care.
"I'll try." I responded, quietly. I would try. If it was a promise, then I would try. I just don't think he understood how hard it was to stop.
"Promise?" He held out his little finger and I hooked my own around his.
"Promise." I replied, letting him pull me into a tight hug.
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