Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Kids from yesterday

Sometimes we must grow stronger, Never let them take the light behind your eyes. 

by xxMetalxFreak69 3 reviews

Wrote this when listening to 'the light behind your eyes' Its about time we stood up and let our voices be heard.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: G - Genres: Drama,Humor,Romance - Characters: Bob Bryar,Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Mikey Way,Ray Toro - Published: 2012-12-27 - Updated: 2012-12-27 - 7829 words

Chapter 14-Sometimes we must grow stronger, Never let them take the light behind your eyes. 
Summery: Its about time we stood up and let our voices be heard.

Gerard’s point of view

As I sat at my desk, I noticed my hands were shaking; my breathing was quick and shallow and I felt cold sweat dripping down my back. I kept my eyes focused on the floor, not daring to look up in case I met another class mates eyes.
I shouldn’t have said anything. I meant every word I had said of course and I’m glad I did it. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders yet I couldn’t stop a knot of worry and anxiety forming rather rapidly in my stomach.
I swallowed, taking a deep breath as Mrs Grech began talking about some Shakespeare project we had to do this term but to be honest, I wasn’t really listening which was weird as I always paid attention in this class along with art and music. I was too busy trying to get my thoughts-and my breathing- in check. All sorts of things were running around in my head.
Louis is so gonna kill me.
Everything is gonna get worse.
I’m gonna be hated even more now.
Everyone knows I’ve cut myself.

The last thought really struck a chord with me. I put my arms on the desk and laid my head on my arms, feeling light headed and sick. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Why did I do that? Everyone knows! I could hear whispers around the classroom, a few sniggers. I didn’t know if I was being just paranoid, but after the scene there, I had a feeling that it was me they were talking about.

I’m dead, my life is over. I just know I’m gonna end up in shit. Shit just hit the fucking fan as Frank would say. Everyone knows I hurt myself, everyone knows I hate myself, that I’m suicidal, that I’m worthless…

I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes; white hot, salt tears, slipping down my cheeks. I took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. My breathing just got faster, more shallower, my heart was beating rapidly. The knot of anxiety tightened and everything seemed sharper; the laughter, the whispers, snatches of conversation….

“Always knew that fag was fucked up….”
“Did you see his scars? What a freak….”
“Maybe he should top himself…do us all a favour…”
“Yeah, save us the drama ya emo fag…”
“Wondered why his so called art was so fucked up…cos his head is…”

“Gee?” I shot up to see Frank looking at me, his face inches from mine, his eyes clouded with concern and worry, “Are, are you okay?” his voice broke with worry.
Mikey, Ray and Gracie looked over at us, Bert sitting up in his chair looking anxious.
“I’m, I’m okay!” I muttered, struggling with breath (so it sounded more like a quiet gasp then a mutter) wondering if I felt any less okay in my life.
“Gerard are you sure you okay? Are you gonna be sick?” Frank asked.
I shook my head, trying to calm myself down so I wouldn’t attract any more attention to myself but it wasn’t working.
“Mr Way? Are you alright?” Mrs Grech asked looking anxious.
The whispers in the class got louder; I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe, my heart feeling like it was gonna explode. I was breaking out in a full blown cold sweat.
Frank’s eyes suddenly widened in realization and worry.
“Mrs! We need a nurse in here! He’s taking a panic attack!” he called out loudly.
I heard Mikey swearing at a guy who was laughing and Ray had grabbed his bag looking for something. Gracie was standing there obviously wondering what to do. Bert was yelling at Louis saying it was his fault.
“I, I can’t breathe!” I gasped, starting to shake violently.
“Can I get a medical nurse up here quickly as possible? I have a student who is taking a suspected panic attack…”
“Gerard, honey, breathe, relax.” Frankie soothed, gripping me by the shoulders.
“I can’t!” I gasped out; everything just seemed to be closing in on me, I felt trapped and cornered.
“Come on you sick fuckers! Give the guy some space will ya!” Ray yelled at the class who were leaning in closer obviously wanting to see if I was having a breakdown, “Here Gee, breathe into this.” he passed me a brown bag and I grabbed it, breathing into it as if it was my life line, but I couldn’t calm down.
“Shhh, you’re okay, Gee, honey, you’re alright, we’re here for you, take your time.” Frank said calmly and soothingly, stroking my hair behind my ear in a reassuring motion, “The nurse is coming to help you okay? You’re gonna be okay, just keep breathing.”

Frank’s point of view.

I had to admit, seeing Gerard stand up to Louis in front of the whole class, showing his scarred arm was the most bravest and amazing thing I ever saw in my life. I felt a surge of pride for him and felt my attraction for him even stronger than it already was. He seemed so strong, keeping all that to himself, and taking it for so long, standing up to the person who had caused him to scar his beautiful body and make him feel as if he would be better off dead when I know I couldn’t-none of us- could live without him here. He’s so different from others. Smart, talented, funny, in touch with his deep emotional side, strong on his opinions, creative, artistic, caring, kind, warm, friendly, a really good friend and brother, but also deep down, he was broken, ripped apart from the inside out, his opinion on himself poisoned by the lies he had to endure daily by his peers, his soul was tortured and if you looked closely into his eyes, behind all that light which was his life, his creativity and that mischievous glint he often had, you could see all the pain and torture within his beautiful forest green eyes.
He was like a beautiful broken angel. With his soft, scarred pale skin, his slender figure, raven black hair falling against his hollow cheekbones and reaching to the nape of his pale neck. His vibrant forest green eyes, thin pink, chapped lips and button nose. His slender arms and artistic, spider like hands and long fingers. His long legs embraced perfectly with his tight black jeans and his tight shirt, showing his flat, hard stomach and chest…

When he began taking his panic attack, he looked so vulnerable and fragile, proving he was exactly what I thought he was; a beautiful, broken fallen angel. I felt my heart tug and I found myself loving him even more. I just wanted to wrap my arms around him and nuzzle into his hair, whisper words of reassurance, tell him he’s beautiful and everything else I thought of him.

After the nurse had arrived and had took Gerard down to the medic room, the whole class began muttering. Me, Mikey, Ray and Gracie shared a worried look.
“Alright class settle down!” Mrs Grech called loudly over the buzz of chatter.
I clenched my fists tightly underneath the table, turning my knuckles chalk white as I heard some of the things people were muttering, some of them on their cells.

“Fuck!” Mikey yelled loudly punching his locker in frustration.
“Shit Mikes calm down.” I said ignoring the looks we were getting.
It was break now and Ray and I had just told Mikey that Gerard hadn’t arrived in chemistry and he had informed us in turn that Gerard was sent home, picked up just before second period. The reason Mikey was so pissed off? Gracie had just texted me saying a video some sicko had took of Gerard standing up for himself and his panic attack had been posted up on youtube and facebook and nearly everyone in the school had seen it.
“How the fuck can I calm down Frank!?” Mikey asked me looking frustrated, “My brother is being used as some form of sick fucking entertainment!” Ray bit his lip worriedly, hands on Mikey’s shoulders and rubbing them in a soothing manner, obviously trying to get Mikey to relax. His body was so tense, I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled a muscle spasm.
“I know Mikey, I’m just as pissed off as you are.” I admitted and it was true; it had been bubbling up inside since first period. This was just crossing the line. I was just glad Gerard wasn’t here to find out about it from some asshole. I just hoped he wouldn’t go on his facebook or youtube anytime soon before we finished school for the day.
Poor Gee, I hope he’s alright. I thought sadly.
Much to my surprise that ‘conscious’ didn’t make any remarks,
Mikey looked upset, torn. And worried. I could feel a huge urge of sympathy and just wanted to hug him. I felt closer to Mikey then I have ever since I met him. I could see tears starting to form in his eyes behind his glasses.
“Why, why are people so sick Frank?” he asked, “Why do they think torturing people like us is fun?”
I didn’t know how to reply. I didn’t have the answer to his question.
Ray looked at me, worry in his eyes, obviously just as lost as I was. Honestly, how can you explain to someone, that people found it funny to mock his brother and think nothing of the pain their causing to him and those close to him?
“Come here.” I whispered and pulled them both into a hug. Mikey gladly accepted it. I wrapped my arms around his lower back and he had his head on my shoulders, arms wrapped round my upper back, due to how tall he was compared to me, Ray, the tallest outta the three of us, wrapped his arms around our shoulders “Everything’s gonna be okay Mikes. We’ll sort this out alright? We’ll find the fucker who posted that up, and we’ll beat the living shit outta him, no mercy and we’ll deal with all this okay?” I said firmly,
Mikey nodded as we broke apart, wiping his nose, “Yeah you’re right.” he said, “Shit man I got you’re jacket all wet.” he said flushing.
“Its okay, I’m a good shoulder to cry on.” I joked making Mikey giggle slightly, “Hey Mikes.”
“Gerard. He’s really strong. I really admire him for what he did.” I said softly.
“Yea he is Mikes. He’s one tough son of a bitch.” Ray grinned, gripping Mikey’s hand.
Mikey smiled, squeezing Ray’s hand in a grateful gesture “Yeah, I’m proud of him. He’s the best brother ever.”
I smiled at that.

Gerard’s point of view.

After fussing over me for almost forty five minutes, mom had left for work and Dad was at the hospital, so I had the place to myself for about four hours until Mikey came home, probably bringing the others with him.
I felt rather guilty; I had gotten them worried sick and they were probably getting a lot of shit from the other students thanks to my performance of how to pull a mental break down in the middle of English class.
I sighed heavily before brushing my hair away from my eyes and forced myself to get off the sofa and head towards the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. After I did that, I headed downstairs towards my basement, locking the door behind me before switching on my Hi -Fi using the remote sitting on my bed and which automatically started blasting out some Teenage Fanclub.
With my warm mug of coffee in my hands, my dark room and my music blasting out, I felt a lot safer, more in control of myself. No looking over my shoulder, no worries of getting a beating if I stay in one spot for too long, no insults flying at me at every corner… it was just me. And everything I loved surrounding me.
My room was definitely my safe haven; where I felt the most secure, where I could say any thoughts
on my mind out loud without the fear of getting ridiculed, where I could be myself without worrying what others surrounding me might think.
Don’t get me wrong, I love being around my family and friends, of course I do, but sometimes…I guess I just like to get away from it all I guess. Not having to get involved in conversations, smile when you really don’t feel like it (that’s usually when we have extended family over or when I’m meeting someone new or not in the best of moods) getting questioned on why I’m so quiet etc cetera etc cetera… Sometimes I’d rather just sit in my room, for awhile, just to dwell on my thoughts and what not, come up with stories in my head, be able to listen to my music as loud as I want and draw anything that comes into my head without someone looking over my shoulder and all but interrogating me about it.
I guess you could say I’d like some time to escape from reality every once in awhile. I mean everybody does now and again right? Some with video games, some by playing guitar, maybe sit for awhile watching movie after movie… just give yourself that sense of personal space and time to be by yourself. I mean if a person doesn’t have any time to their selves and is constantly surrounded by people, they’d eventually explode.
I took a sip of my coffee before snatching up the battered pack of cigarettes that were on the bedside table beside my laptop, and lit up a cancer stick, inhaling deeply, letting the nicotine burn my throat and probably my lungs before exhaling slowly. My body wasn’t tense as much as it was in school, in the class, the nurses office, the car drive back home or sitting when my mom was fussing over me like I was a five year old, but I still wasn’t fully relaxed. My mind was still replaying the scenes in the classroom, making me cringe. Especially the looks on people’s faces when I showed them my arm.
Stupid, stupid mistake!
I shook my head; cussing at myself for another round of sixty minutes wasn’t making me any better. I took another drag of my cigarette before leaving it hanging in the corner of my mouth as I tried to make some space on my desk. Honestly, sometimes I wondered why any of my friends liked hanging in here rather in the sitting room or even Mikey’s room. I mean my room wasn’t exactly tidy; I had clothes lying around the place on the floor, video games and DVDs scattered next to my X-box and T.V, comics movie and music magazines lying around at the side of my bed, Cds piled up messily beside my CD player (try piling up almost a hundred and fifty Cds without them falling over , I bet it ain’t easy.) my desk was covered in sketchpads, pencils, charcoal, chalk, paints, paintbrushes, folders that were filled with old drawings, and stains from paint and charcoal on the wood of the desk along with a permanent ring in the middle of some charcoal dust where my mug of coffee always sits along with an ashtray set on a pile of folders. My shoes were piled messily in the corner next to the stairs and I had a waste bin underneath my desk-overflowing mind you but it’s the thought that counts right?
Plus it smelled; coffee, cigarette smoke, paint, chalk and I’m pretty sure the pile of laundry I got ain’t smelling too fresh either.
I slumped into my desk, singing quietly underneath my breath as I grabbed a 2b pencil and a sketchbook which was nearly finished yet still had at least two pages left. I put my cigarette in the ashtray, took a gulp of coffee before sitting my mug down in its dusty ring of pride, placed my cancer stick back in my mouth and began drawing, quickly losing myself, not really thinking of anything in particular but the first thing that came into my mind instead, only getting up once to change the CD once it stopped to The Misfits’ American psycho.
After awhile, once my back started to ache and my neck began to stiffen from leaning over my desk in concentration (a habit I got into and one my mother hates, saying I’ll grow up with a permanently bent spine, though I was pretty much used to it now) I looked up sharply, cracking my neck as I noticed my CD had finished.
“Ow.” I muttered, my voice rather hoarse sounding as I rubbed the back of my neck, no doubt leaving smudges from the pencil smudges that covered my finger tips, “Fuck, I can’t have been drawing for that long.” I said in disbelief, getting up and stretching, causing my back to crack in the process (another habit my mother hates: that I crack my bones on purpose, says I’ll get arthritis or something)
I walked over to my Cd player and changed the CD to Nirvana’s Never mind, letting ‘Smells like teen spirit’ blast out. After calculating how long the Cds lasted for, I worked out I had been sitting at my desk drawing for over an hour and a half. Fuck me over a table why don’t cha? Though I wouldn’t mind Frank doing that…
I shook my head. No. No perverted thoughts right now. Especially when jerking off is the last thing I wanna do right now. Knowing my luck, I’d remember the comments from class I got. At least that’s one way of getting rid of a boner. Think of the shit people say about you. Take note boys.
Shaking my head, I grabbed my now empty mug of coffee from the desk and headed back up to make myself another coffee.
Lighting up a cigarette, I briefly wondered how the others were getting on, hoping they were okay, before I went back to my bedroom, locking the door once more. I checked out my drawing from a distance: I always did it that way, as you see the details you missed as standing too close makes your eyes focus on just one part of the object rather than the full thing.
It was a sketch of a high school hallway, a shadowed figure lying in a crumpled heap on a blood stained floor, the background, smudged in blue an grey and black for blurry figures to make it look like everything was going at a rapid pace while this figure just lay there unnoticed.
“Yep, a grotesque piece of art lying open in the hallway for all eyes to see I am alright.” I muttered taking a drag of my cigarette.
I flopped myself down on to my bed and let out a heavy sigh wondering if it was possible for someone to feel as flat as I did.
It was really the only word I could think of to describe how I was feeling right now. I was definitely not happy or excited. Nor angry or upset. Not even tired. Just flat.
I stared up at the ceiling, listening to Kurt Cobains’ voice and admiring the grungy, tortured sound of his voice as he sang about how nature is a whore and what not, his voice actually matching my mood right now.
That’s one thing I love about music: It doesn’t judge you, doesn’t spit insults at you and knows exactly how you feel.
I sighed as I stubbed out my cigarette, wondering what I could do now. I knew what I was doing; I was trying to distract myself to prevent my thoughts straying anywhere near what happened today. I didn’t want to think about it. And I definitely didn’t want to talk about it. Not just yet anyways.
I frowned slightly before suddenly sitting up abruptly and grabbed my laptop from the side table, suddenly in the mood to watch some music videos or even play Sims on facebook or something. Anything to prevent myself moping around.
I tapped my fingers impatiently on my side table as I waited on my laptop loading up. Honestly once, I was able to go to the bathroom, make myself a coffee, smoke two cigarettes and finish my cup of coffee and make another one the time it fucking loads up it’s that slow.
I whistled a Misfits tune realizing it was Helena as I decided to grab a sketch pad -which I leave on the floor in case I wake up during the night (insomnia: what a fucking bitch) and wanted to draw but can’t be assed going over to my desk-and flicked through my drawings while I waited.
The drawings in this pad weren’t nearly as good as the ones I did at my desk (due to being half asleep and done about three or four in the morning) but quite good all the same. When I worked at my desk, you’re talking I would sit there spending at least a quarter of an hour on one part to make it perfect and make sure I had added all the details and shaded properly when needed so usually, I would spend approximately up to two hours on one drawing, depending on the size and how much detail I wanted to add. Yet this sketchpad, was usually used just for doodling in, drawing anything that was on my mind. My dad said that was a typical artist trait: The minute I got an idea in my head, I had to draw it down before I forgot or I’ll start fidgeting and be rather snippy.
Flicking through it, I saw doodles of cartoon vampires, skeletons, zombies or werewolves. A couple of sketches of angels on one page caught my attention the most. For some reason, I had a sudden fascination with Angels after I saw some paintings of them at the art gallery we went to for a school trip. Part of our project for Art class I think.
One, that was crouching, head bowed, and arms wrapped round the legs as if she was crying was done with a bit of detail like some shading around the figure and wings to make the angel stand out against the darkness of the black, clashing quite nicely with the white of the skin, dress, wings and hair and the grey narrow lines I added in for detail on the wings, dress and hair and the facial features. Another one in the corner of the page was a black and red version, with the figure standing to the side facing a miniature sunset done with scarlet red, a bright orange and a sort of mellow yellow. The Angel itself was wearing a long sleeved black dress and had grey wings, raven black hair down to the shoulders in a wave like style and holding a bunch of black roses. I had used a white pencil to add in detail to the roses and hair and the dress to make it look like the sun was shining on the figure yet it was in a shadow, hence why some parts were done in black.
In the bottom left, I had a blue, white and grey version of an Angel dancing. The legs were done slim and dainty, arms above her head, swaying to the side, her long curly light blonde hair down to her waist and wearing a pale blue dress with white wings fanning out at the sides, with a slight hint of a baby blue etched round the edges, blending pretty nicely with the white and the grey lines I had used to detail. I also put in a smudged blue and grey background and some blue at the bottom of the page, with a shading of stones and white lilies as if the Angel was dancing on water. I also drew one at the edge of the page, sitting on a thick tree branch, legs crossed at the ankles, and a arm at the side of her body, clutching on to the wood. This one had dark brown hair, spiked up at the shoulders and a red lily in her hair, a short dark forest green dress that went down to her knee caps and spread out. This one had a bit more detail to the face; I had coloured the eyes a deep chocolate brown and were narrowed slightly and rose red thin lips curved in a mischievous smirk, her fingers curled around her hair. I also added in a small murky forest like background, using a black to add in detail to the hair, dress, the branch, her nails and fingers, and the leaves in the background, also using a 4B pencil for shading around the arms, legs and face.
Okay so even at shit o’ clock in the morning, I still like to perfect my drawings. So sue my ass.
I smiled slightly, remembering that I had shown Mikey them as I was planning to draw them out on a bigger canvas for Art class-which I still had to do: it was due to be handed in this Friday. We were to go up to the classroom at lunch and hand them in, then on Monday we would get back our grade marks. So basically, we were to work all week on the project, then hand it in to the teacher so she could mark it over the weekend. Pretty nice set up: She doesn’t need to mark during the week while we work our asses off, and then we get to have a social life while she’s stuck at home marking over thirty drawings at the weekend.
Mikey had definitely liked the forest one but said-if I could manage it- I should draw the four of them on a larger canvas each and hand the four of them in like a mini portfolio. Basically, he couldn’t choose which one I should do in other words so decided to pick the four of them. Smart ass.
I put my sketchbook down, seeing that the laptop had finally decided to load up my desktop screen where I had the Misfits American psycho album cover as my background. I drank some coffee, making a mental note to start on my drawings. The four of them had took an hour each and that was just the small version, so no doubt it would take me over two hours to do them on a larger canvas. I mean you’re talking A6 size here. So the drawing will have to be larger, which means a larger background and no doubt more detail and shading. Plus I still hadn’t decided to do it in either pencil, chalk, charcoal or paint. The teacher hadn’t set a pacific material to use. Only that we were to draw our own ideas of something that had caught our attention at the art gallery. Mine just so happened to be the Angel paintings. Frank was lucky enough to only start today so he didn’t have to do the project. Though he did have to do some drawings of things that interested him to work on in class while we worked on our projects. Reason I know that? He texted me at break to ask if I could help him come up with ideas if I wasn’t busy with my own project as Mrs Thompson-our art teacher- had cornered him and asked if he had anything with him to work on in class. Obviously not. So I texted him and told him to write a list of things that interested him and maybe do a quick rough sketch of any ideas he had in class, then he could come round and we could brainstorm over what he could actually draw. Plus I’d help him in class. So basically we would be working together on our projects. He had texted back, saying that was a great idea and said he really appreciated it. I was just grateful he hadn’t brought that subject up.
I squirmed rather uncomfortably as a feeling of guilt washed over me. Great, it was Frank’s first day at a new school and I had promised him I would help him get through it (he confided to me he got first day of school nerves and usually withdrawn which just made him even more visible as a new kid and get instantly targeted by bullies) and what did I go and do? Prove that I couldn’t take the pressure of getting bullied every day and have a panic attack in front of the whole class. I hope he wasn’t upset or disappointed with me.
I shook my head: Nope I’m not dwelling on it anymore. Snap out of it Gee. You got an Art project to work on that could make or break your chance of getting a good reference and getting into Art school. So just check your Facebook to see if any of the guys messaged you, then check out one or two music videos then start working on it. Forget about what happened, what’s done is done, there is no going back and no doubt it will all be forgotten about by the end of the week.
Feeling slightly more cheerful, I clicked on my browser and lit up another cigarette while I waited on it to load up. I drained the rest of my coffee and logged into my facebook account before going upstairs to make another one. Gonna need it for this project.
When I came back downstairs, I noticed I had two friend request. I didn’t even come close to having the same amount of friends on facebook as the ‘popular’ ones did but the people I had on my friends list were at least people that I got on with and not people I would end up having a bitch fight with. I checked the two friend requests and smiled slightly, clicking on accept and confirming that I know them. I mean I hang around with Frank and Gracie so duh.
I decided to update my status, typing in that it was lucky I got sent home from school early today as I had a project to finish. Nirvana and coffee to get motivated before adding a smile face, and clicking post.
I then clicked on the part that said upload photo/video, clicked the folder that contained photos and uploaded ten photos of me and the guys lurking around in my room that we took on my cell last night. I grinned at one in particular; Mikey, me, and Frank sticking our tongues out and doing the devil horn signs. Another one showed Ray mimicking shooting Mikey in the head as Mikey, unaware of the photo being took, played guitar hero, beating Frank who was pouting and flipping him off. There was also photos of me and Frank, arms wrapped around another and flipping the camera off, Ray balancing a pencil on his nose with a pretty stupid expression on his face, Frank and Mikey playing the X-box upside down on the bed, me looking ready to kick them off as I frowned at them over my sketchpad, one showing me laughing like crazy as Ray jumped up and down on the bed playing air guitar, his fro all over the place, Frank giving the camera a v-sign , his tongue poking out as he concentrated on playing a videogame. There was one of me and Mikey using paint brushes as wands one of Frank and Ray trying to be like ninjas and stand on one leg, arms poised, though Frank was giggling uncontrollably and his arms were flailing with Ray trying hard not to laugh, and the last one was done with the four of us holding up bottles of cola, my arm outstretched as I took the photo sticking my tongue out, Mikey flipping the camera off, Frank doing bunny ears behind my head and Ray doing devil horns.
I let out a laugh as the photos uploaded; I had quite a few photos of us all, we all did on our respective Facebook accounts. I had mine set out in albums: Family, friend, concerts, and special occasions.
These photos were being put up in the friends album. I did contemplate on posting my drawings up Mikey was the one who suggested it) but a part of me was reluctant. I still liked to keep my art private-for now anyway.
Once my photos uploaded, I tagged them ‘In the Bat cave AKA my bedroom’ as the location and the guys as the people who were with me then checked my messages realizing Bob had just sent an email.

‘Hey man can’t wait for Friday and to meet the poor guy you sucked into our group. XD joking, of course. Anyway yeah, good luck with the project though personally I don’t think you need it. You’re one awesome artist dude. By the way I saw the video on youtube, don’t let those fuckers get to you Gee, they ain’t worth shit. Make you feel any better I’ll personally kick every single one of their asses when I come down on Friday.
Reply ASAP dude, wanna have one of those fucked conversations we always do whenever you’re online.
Giving you brotherly love from Chicago dude.’

I frowned slightly. Video on youtube? What the fuck is he on about? Is he wasted and watching that fucking vampire prank video and thinking its me like he did last time? Nah that doesn’t fit.
“Only one way to find out.” I muttered, messaging him back.

‘Hey dude, yeah same here can’t wait for it either, Friday can’t come quick enough. And what cha mean ‘poor guy’? He willingly joined our group of retarded crazy straight as a round a bout gang thank you very much. (Check the photos I uploaded dude) And thanks for the luck and the compliment dude. Need all the luck and confidence I can get; absolutely shitting it as it’s a make or break for Art school ya know?
What video are you talking about? I haven’t heard anything. Confused as fuck right now.

Sending back my gay love from Jersey XD’

I clicked send and logged quickly into my youtube account, wondering what the hell Bob was talking about. I didn’t see anything that would affect me badly, but then I had set my profile private and only let videos from channels I had subscribed to post up so I wouldn’t now would I?
I put on Jawbreaker’s Fireman music video and went back on Facebook to see Bob had replied.

‘Ah shit dude, I didn’t know you had no idea. Um God I feel like an asshole right now for doing this but better you hear it from me then some prick in your school so here goes. Someone filmed you standing up for yourself against that bastard Louis and of you taking a panic attack, and well let’s just say its proven a big hit and the comments aren’t exactly pleasant.
Like I said dude, I feel like a total asshole doing this to you, but I don’t want you finding out the harsh way. Sorry bout this Gee but I want you know I’m really fucking proud of you. Keep strong and keep fighting.’

I felt my heart race rapidly all over again and the knot of worry and anxiety returned with vengeance as I hovered over the message, wondering if I should ask for the link-and if I could take it.
Why in the fuck would someone do that to me? That’s way below the belt. Don’t I get made to suffer enough public humiliation without some asshole making sure people from around the whole fucking world can laugh at me too?
My hands shook terribly as I shakily typed out: ‘What’s it titled as?’
I pressed send and took a deep drag of my cigarette trying not to lose it. My legs shook violently as I fidgeted waiting on Bob’s reply. Soon enough I heard a bing and checked his reply.

‘Usually I wouldn’t want to do this but like I said before, I’d rather you found out from me or someone you know rather than some asshole, so I’ll give you the link. I don’t want to type it in a message am sending my best friend.’
Underneath was the link to the video and I hovered the arrow over it, hesitating on whether or not to click on it and whether it was a wise idea to watch it. Maybe I should wait on the others and watch it with them? So am not on my own.
I shook my head. For Gods’ sake Gerard you’re not a fucking five year old starting their first day of school and need to hold your mom’s hand! You’re fucking eighteen and been through much worse then watching a video some sicko decided to make to humiliate you even more than they do already! So man up, bite the bullet and grow a fucking set!

I clicked on the link with some sort of forced determination, bracing myself for what was no doubt a tsunami of emotions to overcome me.
The video loaded up quite quickly (much to my disappointment) and I watched myself, going head to head with Louis and talking quietly but the class was so quiet you could hear me as if I was shouting.
I noticed the asshole had also gotten my brother and the others in the video and their expressions made it even worse to watch; Mikey looked liked he was going to rip Louis a new ass hole, Gracie actually looked terrified, Ray had an arm around Mikey’s shoulder, looking at me worriedly. But it was Frank’s face that hit me the most: There was a look of worry, fear, concern, sadness, and anger.
I noticed some of the class wore smirks on their faces and some were making gun motions to their heads. I felt sick to my stomach and when I held my arm up to show my scars, I felt bile rise up as I saw the reactions; people snickering, making slitting motions, looking at me as if I was crazy, the worry and shock on my friends and brother’s faces…
I couldn’t take it: I stood up abruptly, unlocked my door quickly, slam mining it as I ran upstairs to the bathroom as quickly as I could and threw up into the toilet, the toast I had eaten this morning for breakfast, and the coffee I had drank coming up in droves.
My head ached furiously, my stomach tightened and hurt like a bitch and my throat burned as I dry wretched, tears of pain and humiliation slipping down my face.
I sat up, a bit too quickly as my head began to spin but after a few moments the dizziness passed and I lay my head on the cold porcelain of the sink. I took a few deep breaths, sweeping my hair out of my sweat covered face before blinking a few times. I flushed the contents of my stomach in the toilet bowel away before turning my attention to the mirror on the wall above the sink.
I stared at my reflection; there was bags underneath my eyes, my skin was paler than usual and my forest green eyes looked blood shot, and my hair was swept across my face.
“Fuck I look like shit.” I muttered actually shocked, my throat was hoarse due to retching so my voice came out more like a croak, like a man dying of thirst.
I removed my eyes from my reflection, turned on the tap and soaked my face in cold water. I grabbed a towel on the bath tub and dried my face and hands before brushing my teeth to get the horrible taste of sick from my mouth.
I left the bathroom and headed to the kitchen, letting it process. As I made myself another coffee and lit up a cigarette whilst waiting on the kettle to click, I realized I didn’t feel upset-humiliated definitely-but not upset. I was pissed. Furious, beyond anger, whatever you wanna call it, but I was definitely pissed.
“Way below the fucking belt. Fucking sick, twisted son of a bitch!“ I cussed, slamming my mug down on the counter with unneeded force, “Think its so fucking funny to publicly humiliate me just for there sick entertainment. Fucking think its all okay to treat me like am a piece of shit on their fucking prepped up shoes.”
I continued to mutter profanities and insults underneath my breath as I finished making my coffee, feeling the anger of the humiliation and shit I’ve been through, running through my veins.
As I went back downstairs to my room, I grabbed my cell from my table, my mind making a quick decision as if I had it planned out the whole time. I scrolled down my contacts until I came to Frankie’s number, taking a drag of my cigarette and a sip of my coffee before I clicked ’call’.
“Hey Frank it’s me. You busy?” I asked surprisingly calm and able to smile at the sound of my best friends’ voice, despite the anger I felt coursing through my veins.
”Hey Gee! Nah am not busy, unless you count having to sit bored shitless while your brother shoves his tongue down his boyfriends-not to mention ourbest friend-throat as a busy activity.” Frank replied sounding squeamish.
I laughed, “Okay, eww.” I said, feeling sympathy for him.
” Ya think? Honestly, this is why I hate hanging out with new couples. They get all lovey dovey and sickly cute and -”
“Wait you think they’re cute?!” I exclaimed laughing, “Their all but mouth fucking and you think it’s cute? Seriously?”
”I said sickly cute remember, sickly cute. Unless I suddenly switched personalities with Gracie, I do not think watching my two best friends-one happening to be my best friends brother- cramming their tongues down each others throats and acting as if they’re one another’ oxygen supply, something to squeal and coo over like its some cute lil puppy dog!”
I burst out laughing, “Well tell ‘em to get a room then.” I choked out.
”Don’t cha think I tried that already? I told them that, and you know what they did? They flipped me off!” I laughed crazily at the sound of outrage and indignation in Frank’s voice, ”And they told me to fuck off and you’re brother said he’s working!”
I spat out my coffee, laughing, “Seriously!?” I asked disbelievingly.
”What, you think I could come up with this crap? Its unbelievable! Of course am serious!”
I giggled uncontrollably as Frank continued ranting.
”Honestly Gerard it’s fucking outrageous! Hey! Tongue fuckers! Keep it quiet! I’m trying to have a conversation over here!” I choked on my cigarette, coughing out smoke as I laughed, hearing Mikey shout something about how Frank was jealous cause he wasn’t getting any action.
”Hey back off! I only lived here for three days, give it time!” Frank called back confidently as I hiccuped, ”Assholes.” he muttered before saying, ”Yeah well forgetting those two all but dry humping over there.” I choked, “”Wow what’s up with you? You choke on your drink or something?”
“Do you mind not saying that my brother is dry humping my best friend thank you very much?” I asked coughing, “There is boundaries ya know.”
”Oh right, oops.” Frank said sounding sheepish, ”My bad. Anyway, forget about that. What’s up?”
“I saw the video.” I said in a rush.
It was silent on the other end, and I bit my lip anxiously.
Then suddenly, ”Shit Gee I’m sorry. We were gonna tell you when we finished but-”
“Hey, its alright, relax am not calling to freak out at cha.” I said hastily.
”Thank God.” there was a pause then, ”So…what did ya call me for?”
“I called you to ask if you guys can come over at lunch. I got an idea.” I said calmly.
”Idea for what?”
“I got an idea after I saw that video.” I said still speaking in an oddly calm voice.
”What? You mean you wanna do something about this?
“Got it in one Frankie boy.” I grinned before taking a drag of my cigarette.
”But what?” Frank sounded rather excited-concerned and worried possibly about my sanity-but excited all the same.
“Let’s just say I think its about time we stopped taking their shit and show em we ain’t so easy to take down.” I said exhaling.
”Sounds good to me. You gotta fill me in on the details so I’ll see if I can get those fuckers to quit eating each other’s faces off long enough to drag their skinny asses over.”
“You always know the sweetest things to say Frankie.” I said sarcastically though I grinned.
”I try. Alright Imma go and I’ll be over with these two mouth fuckers in about an hour?”
“Sounds good.”
“Alright gonna go see ya Gee.”
“See ya.” I hung up and slid my cell in my pocket before draining the rest of my coffee.
“These fuckers ain’t gonna know what hit em.” I muttered, “Bout time we stood up and teach em we’re not just gonna hide in the darkness. We’re gonna show em we’re sick of their shit and their dirty look.”
Its about time we stood up and let our voices be heard.
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