Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
So this is actually the longest one shot I've ever written in my life.
Hold the applause.
This story's pretty much based off of an actual place in my city that I've always thought looked really badass and shit, and surprise surprise, I found a way to turn it into a frerard story setting.
I'm really good at doing that.
Honestly.
Anyways rate and review
xoAlex
Dying leaves scatter carelessly around, twisting aimlessly in the cold November wind. The sky is overcast and grey, dressing the rest of the world in a dull monotone shade. The wind flows through my hair, blowing it around my face. It is absolutely frigid outside, but I pay it no notice. I'm already numb- both physically and emotionally.
I'm standing on a bridge in the middle of New Jersey. It's a worn down part of town with decrepit old brick buildings standing side by side with the rusted skeletal frames of fire escapes clinging desperately to their backs. The streets are dirty and completely bare. Behind the old buildings, there's a steep drop off. There's a small gorge about 30 feet deep and 40 feet wide with a black flowing river at the very bottom. Spreading across the top is a sketchy, iron black train bridge, which has been out of use for years now. That's where I am.
I'm standing on the very edge of the bridge, lightly gripping the railing nearby. Peering through my dark tinted sunglasses, my eyes scan the stone cold current so far below.
Shivering lightly, I pull the edges of my black jacket tighter around me. My hair is blowing around my shoulders- I really do need a haircut.. But it's not like it'll matter that much in a little while anyways. It's not like anything will matter. I breathe in slowly through my nose. The crisp, icy air stings my nostrils only to escape in my next exhale in a small cloud of steam, eventually fading away. The trails of steam escaping my lips renew my cravings for a smoke. I haven't had a cigarette in so long, and the sudden desire just reminds my of how much of a failure I am. How much I've completely destroyed my life. How much I need to do this.
My hands tighten their grip on the crumbling, rusted railing as I step closer to the edge of the bridge. As I gaze down into the gaping black pit of fate, all I can see are my failures being reflected in the rippling black surface. It's all my fault that my life has gone this far downhill. It's my fault that I'm as messed up as I am. Who would have though that such innocent little things at first could so easily turn into life-ruining addictions? Who would have thought that a broken life was so hard to mend? My entire existence has been shattered into tiny pieces like a mirror struck with a hammer. And I even had picked up the pieces and fit them back together just to discover that so many of them were either missing or too absolutely broken for me to repair. But still I was on my knees trying hopelessly to put my life back together, just as hopelessly as though I was on my knees trying to put back together a broken mirror with half the pieces missing. I couldn't get a grip on everything. The drugs, the alcohol, the addictions. It all just effortlessly pulled me down, down, down, deeper to the bottom while I pitifully thrashed and reached for the surface. But the surface was always just out of reach.
It's all my fault.
It's up to me to fix it all.
I take one more step closer to the edge.
Never breaking my gaze with the black water, I shuffle just slightly closer to my future- to my one final chance at not messing something up for once.
I'm amazed at how calm I am- how clear my mind is. This is what I want.. What I need. This is how it all will finally end. There are absolutely no doubts in my mind.
This is it.
My feet are just barely on the very brink of the stone cold, black iron. All it will take is just an inch more.. One simple little step and it will all be done. The slightest trace of a grin crawls onto my lips. Just the ghost of an expression that hasn't been on my face in so long. It's like I can't even remember how to smile anymore. I'm so horribly out of practice.
The autumn wind stirs the cold current so far below. It's a sure way of escape, and I haven't anticipated anything this bad ever before.
Even the many addictions which I have known in my life have never produced a craving so bad as this. I really, truly want this. Without a shadow of a doubt in my mind, I completely know that this will make everything better.
This is it.
My foot lifts up almost with a mind of its own.
It swings out over the gaping pit.
This is it.
My muscles relax.
This is it.
My eyes close.
This is it.
The smile has never left my lips.
This is it.
I fully relax and begin to lean forwards, anticipating the feeling of falling.
The feeling I await never comes.
"It's a beautiful day."
My eyes slowly open.
"I've always loved this time of year."
My head turns slowly to the right to see a man standing a few meters away, leaning against a railing on the bridge and gazing out over the river. He's dressed in a long black coat that reaches down past his knees. His short black hair ruffles softly in the breeze. When he turns to face me, I'm met with piercing hazel eyes which hold oceans of emotions- so many I cannot pinpoint a single one. Although I can instantly see kindness. He smiles at me, tapping the ash off of the cigarette in his fingers.
"My birthday's around this time of year, so I guess I'm a little biased, but I've always loved Autumn."
I gaze questioningly at him for a moment, confused by the casual demeanour of the man, before turning my focus back on the water below.
I clear my throat, "Yeah, it's.. Nice.. I guess."
Silently, he takes a drag from his cigarette and quietly exhales.
"So what brings you here?"
Expecting that sort of question, I shrug and keep my focus down below.
"Life." I answer honestly.
"How so?"
Sighing, I step a little back from the ledge and lean on the railing.
"I don't think you'd care."
He turns to look at me.
"Try me."
I focus on my hands, playing with the frayed edge of the sleeve of my old black jacket.
"Addictions. A lot of them. Drugs, alcohol, pain.. You name it, I craved it. It ruined relationships. It ruined jobs.... It ruined my life." I pause, guilt welling up in my stomach. "It's just piled up. More and more. I tried to find answers, help, ways to cope. None of it helped. I've ruined so many lives simply by destroying my own. So I finally decided to fix it."
He smokes in silence for a few moments, drinking in what I just explained.
"So.. That's why you're here? To fix everything?"
"Pretty much."
"And you're positive that it will help, instead of just ruining more people's lives?"
Laughing bitterly, I rub my face with my cold hands in an attempt to improve circulation.
"Nobody loves me anymore. I've only hurt people. My friends are long gone and my girlfriend hasn't even attempted to communicate in months."
"What about your family?"
A sudden feeling of emptiness engulfs me, thinking of my little brother Mikey. He had tried so hard to help me. He encouraged me and taken care of me through everything and had been nothing but supportive through the worst.
But I had hurt him.
I remember looking into his eyes and seeing the absolute hurt and betrayal. I had promised him I would get better. I had promised him I would fix my life. I had lied. And now he probably hates me.
Tears slowly fill my eyes and I duck my head to try to hide them.
When I reply, it's in a broken whisper.
"They don't care anymore."
He peers over at me, eyes scanning my pitiful appearance.
"Family will always care."
"You don't understand.. I've let them down so many times and broken so many promises. They hate me."
Once again, silence envelopes us. The mystery man simply stands leaning against the railing and puffs his cigarette while I stare at my hands and try to force the tears back.
When he finally speaks again, his voice is soft and almost sad.
"You might not think they care right now.. But take it from someone who's been there.. You'll only ruin their lives more by just ending it all now. You'll hurt so many more lives so much worse than you already may have done..."
He pauses, sighing sadly and almost longingly.
"They'll live their lives always blaming themselves. They'll never forgive themselves and always wish they could have another chance- to try to help, to do more to help. It will hurt them so much more than you've hurt anyone yet.. Including yourself."
He looks up into my eyes and smiles at me- a genuine smile.
"Your brother's looking for you. He really cares about you, y'know.. Don't let him down."
I stare at him in confusion. How does he know-
Instantly, my cell phone rings. I glance at the man who's smiling lightly and nodding. My eyes wander to the name on the screen.
Mikey.
I glance at the man again before answering.
"Mi-"
"Oh my God!! Gerard, where are you? I called your apartment but nobody answered, so I drove over and you weren't here, but the door was unlocked and your car was in the driveway and holy shit I've been so worried, thank god you're alright!"
My lips quiver and my eyes slowly begin to fill with tears.
"I'm fine now." I barely manage a whisper.
"Gerard, where are you? I'll come pick you up if you want and we can go get pizza, maybe rent a movie? I really miss you, bro.."
I smile widely and wipe my eyes.
"I can walk back, but thanks, Mikes.. I miss you too.." I whisper the last bit, afraid my voice would crack otherwise.
There's a moment of silence on the line before Mikey responds.
"I'll see you soon, then.."
"Bye, lil bro.."
After hanging up, I stare at the phone in my hand for a few moments, smiling.
Maybe I could give living another shot.
Suddenly realization dawned on me.
"Wait, how did you know-"
I look up to see the stranger walking away slowly.
"Wait!" I scream after him.
Slowly, his head swings around- delicate hazel eyes connecting with my own.
"Yes?"
I stare at him for a moment. He saved my life. Why is he just walking away?
"W-who are you?"
His lips curl in a smile.
"Frank."
And then he's gone.
I don't know where he went. I don't know how he vanished as suddenly as he did. I don't know why I just stood there paralyzed as my saviour just simply walked away, but I know that after he left, he was gone for good.
As I walk home, I think over everything that has just happened in this short amount of time. Who is Frank? Why was he at the train bridge at the very moment I was? Who is he anyways?
It's at that moment when something catches my eye. It's a window of one of the many abandoned buildings lining the streets of this part of town. See- this area is really old. In fact, a few buildings- as well as the train bridge- date back to the early 1900s.
It's the window of one of these buildings that stands out boldly. It's completely covered in sheets of newspaper, dating to around 1964. The sheets were probably put there when the building was put out of use, so it's not anything out of the ordinary, but it's the article on the very centre page which completely captures my attention.
My eyes scan the faded, yellowed paper. My eyes widen more in shock the farther I read.
Frank Iero, age 26, found in river... believed that he has committed suicide... fallen 40 feet from bridge in the New Jersey business district... reported dead at the scene...
My heart nearly stops when I see the photograph attached at the bottom of the article.
Frank.
His face is smiling back at me from the sun bleached newsprint.
He saved my life.
A tear finds its way out of my eye and down my cheek.
I turn to leave.
"Thank you."
I whisper into the cold, November air.
"Don't let me down." Whispers a familiar voice.
My head whips around, expecting to see Frank again, but the street is desolate. Instead, my eyes rest on the photo of him in the shop window- his smile seeming to have grown.
And as I turn to leave, a new found smile on my lips and determination in my heart, I can't help but think of Frank.
And you know what?
I won't let him down.
Hold the applause.
This story's pretty much based off of an actual place in my city that I've always thought looked really badass and shit, and surprise surprise, I found a way to turn it into a frerard story setting.
I'm really good at doing that.
Honestly.
Anyways rate and review
xoAlex
Dying leaves scatter carelessly around, twisting aimlessly in the cold November wind. The sky is overcast and grey, dressing the rest of the world in a dull monotone shade. The wind flows through my hair, blowing it around my face. It is absolutely frigid outside, but I pay it no notice. I'm already numb- both physically and emotionally.
I'm standing on a bridge in the middle of New Jersey. It's a worn down part of town with decrepit old brick buildings standing side by side with the rusted skeletal frames of fire escapes clinging desperately to their backs. The streets are dirty and completely bare. Behind the old buildings, there's a steep drop off. There's a small gorge about 30 feet deep and 40 feet wide with a black flowing river at the very bottom. Spreading across the top is a sketchy, iron black train bridge, which has been out of use for years now. That's where I am.
I'm standing on the very edge of the bridge, lightly gripping the railing nearby. Peering through my dark tinted sunglasses, my eyes scan the stone cold current so far below.
Shivering lightly, I pull the edges of my black jacket tighter around me. My hair is blowing around my shoulders- I really do need a haircut.. But it's not like it'll matter that much in a little while anyways. It's not like anything will matter. I breathe in slowly through my nose. The crisp, icy air stings my nostrils only to escape in my next exhale in a small cloud of steam, eventually fading away. The trails of steam escaping my lips renew my cravings for a smoke. I haven't had a cigarette in so long, and the sudden desire just reminds my of how much of a failure I am. How much I've completely destroyed my life. How much I need to do this.
My hands tighten their grip on the crumbling, rusted railing as I step closer to the edge of the bridge. As I gaze down into the gaping black pit of fate, all I can see are my failures being reflected in the rippling black surface. It's all my fault that my life has gone this far downhill. It's my fault that I'm as messed up as I am. Who would have though that such innocent little things at first could so easily turn into life-ruining addictions? Who would have thought that a broken life was so hard to mend? My entire existence has been shattered into tiny pieces like a mirror struck with a hammer. And I even had picked up the pieces and fit them back together just to discover that so many of them were either missing or too absolutely broken for me to repair. But still I was on my knees trying hopelessly to put my life back together, just as hopelessly as though I was on my knees trying to put back together a broken mirror with half the pieces missing. I couldn't get a grip on everything. The drugs, the alcohol, the addictions. It all just effortlessly pulled me down, down, down, deeper to the bottom while I pitifully thrashed and reached for the surface. But the surface was always just out of reach.
It's all my fault.
It's up to me to fix it all.
I take one more step closer to the edge.
Never breaking my gaze with the black water, I shuffle just slightly closer to my future- to my one final chance at not messing something up for once.
I'm amazed at how calm I am- how clear my mind is. This is what I want.. What I need. This is how it all will finally end. There are absolutely no doubts in my mind.
This is it.
My feet are just barely on the very brink of the stone cold, black iron. All it will take is just an inch more.. One simple little step and it will all be done. The slightest trace of a grin crawls onto my lips. Just the ghost of an expression that hasn't been on my face in so long. It's like I can't even remember how to smile anymore. I'm so horribly out of practice.
The autumn wind stirs the cold current so far below. It's a sure way of escape, and I haven't anticipated anything this bad ever before.
Even the many addictions which I have known in my life have never produced a craving so bad as this. I really, truly want this. Without a shadow of a doubt in my mind, I completely know that this will make everything better.
This is it.
My foot lifts up almost with a mind of its own.
It swings out over the gaping pit.
This is it.
My muscles relax.
This is it.
My eyes close.
This is it.
The smile has never left my lips.
This is it.
I fully relax and begin to lean forwards, anticipating the feeling of falling.
The feeling I await never comes.
"It's a beautiful day."
My eyes slowly open.
"I've always loved this time of year."
My head turns slowly to the right to see a man standing a few meters away, leaning against a railing on the bridge and gazing out over the river. He's dressed in a long black coat that reaches down past his knees. His short black hair ruffles softly in the breeze. When he turns to face me, I'm met with piercing hazel eyes which hold oceans of emotions- so many I cannot pinpoint a single one. Although I can instantly see kindness. He smiles at me, tapping the ash off of the cigarette in his fingers.
"My birthday's around this time of year, so I guess I'm a little biased, but I've always loved Autumn."
I gaze questioningly at him for a moment, confused by the casual demeanour of the man, before turning my focus back on the water below.
I clear my throat, "Yeah, it's.. Nice.. I guess."
Silently, he takes a drag from his cigarette and quietly exhales.
"So what brings you here?"
Expecting that sort of question, I shrug and keep my focus down below.
"Life." I answer honestly.
"How so?"
Sighing, I step a little back from the ledge and lean on the railing.
"I don't think you'd care."
He turns to look at me.
"Try me."
I focus on my hands, playing with the frayed edge of the sleeve of my old black jacket.
"Addictions. A lot of them. Drugs, alcohol, pain.. You name it, I craved it. It ruined relationships. It ruined jobs.... It ruined my life." I pause, guilt welling up in my stomach. "It's just piled up. More and more. I tried to find answers, help, ways to cope. None of it helped. I've ruined so many lives simply by destroying my own. So I finally decided to fix it."
He smokes in silence for a few moments, drinking in what I just explained.
"So.. That's why you're here? To fix everything?"
"Pretty much."
"And you're positive that it will help, instead of just ruining more people's lives?"
Laughing bitterly, I rub my face with my cold hands in an attempt to improve circulation.
"Nobody loves me anymore. I've only hurt people. My friends are long gone and my girlfriend hasn't even attempted to communicate in months."
"What about your family?"
A sudden feeling of emptiness engulfs me, thinking of my little brother Mikey. He had tried so hard to help me. He encouraged me and taken care of me through everything and had been nothing but supportive through the worst.
But I had hurt him.
I remember looking into his eyes and seeing the absolute hurt and betrayal. I had promised him I would get better. I had promised him I would fix my life. I had lied. And now he probably hates me.
Tears slowly fill my eyes and I duck my head to try to hide them.
When I reply, it's in a broken whisper.
"They don't care anymore."
He peers over at me, eyes scanning my pitiful appearance.
"Family will always care."
"You don't understand.. I've let them down so many times and broken so many promises. They hate me."
Once again, silence envelopes us. The mystery man simply stands leaning against the railing and puffs his cigarette while I stare at my hands and try to force the tears back.
When he finally speaks again, his voice is soft and almost sad.
"You might not think they care right now.. But take it from someone who's been there.. You'll only ruin their lives more by just ending it all now. You'll hurt so many more lives so much worse than you already may have done..."
He pauses, sighing sadly and almost longingly.
"They'll live their lives always blaming themselves. They'll never forgive themselves and always wish they could have another chance- to try to help, to do more to help. It will hurt them so much more than you've hurt anyone yet.. Including yourself."
He looks up into my eyes and smiles at me- a genuine smile.
"Your brother's looking for you. He really cares about you, y'know.. Don't let him down."
I stare at him in confusion. How does he know-
Instantly, my cell phone rings. I glance at the man who's smiling lightly and nodding. My eyes wander to the name on the screen.
Mikey.
I glance at the man again before answering.
"Mi-"
"Oh my God!! Gerard, where are you? I called your apartment but nobody answered, so I drove over and you weren't here, but the door was unlocked and your car was in the driveway and holy shit I've been so worried, thank god you're alright!"
My lips quiver and my eyes slowly begin to fill with tears.
"I'm fine now." I barely manage a whisper.
"Gerard, where are you? I'll come pick you up if you want and we can go get pizza, maybe rent a movie? I really miss you, bro.."
I smile widely and wipe my eyes.
"I can walk back, but thanks, Mikes.. I miss you too.." I whisper the last bit, afraid my voice would crack otherwise.
There's a moment of silence on the line before Mikey responds.
"I'll see you soon, then.."
"Bye, lil bro.."
After hanging up, I stare at the phone in my hand for a few moments, smiling.
Maybe I could give living another shot.
Suddenly realization dawned on me.
"Wait, how did you know-"
I look up to see the stranger walking away slowly.
"Wait!" I scream after him.
Slowly, his head swings around- delicate hazel eyes connecting with my own.
"Yes?"
I stare at him for a moment. He saved my life. Why is he just walking away?
"W-who are you?"
His lips curl in a smile.
"Frank."
And then he's gone.
I don't know where he went. I don't know how he vanished as suddenly as he did. I don't know why I just stood there paralyzed as my saviour just simply walked away, but I know that after he left, he was gone for good.
As I walk home, I think over everything that has just happened in this short amount of time. Who is Frank? Why was he at the train bridge at the very moment I was? Who is he anyways?
It's at that moment when something catches my eye. It's a window of one of the many abandoned buildings lining the streets of this part of town. See- this area is really old. In fact, a few buildings- as well as the train bridge- date back to the early 1900s.
It's the window of one of these buildings that stands out boldly. It's completely covered in sheets of newspaper, dating to around 1964. The sheets were probably put there when the building was put out of use, so it's not anything out of the ordinary, but it's the article on the very centre page which completely captures my attention.
My eyes scan the faded, yellowed paper. My eyes widen more in shock the farther I read.
Frank Iero, age 26, found in river... believed that he has committed suicide... fallen 40 feet from bridge in the New Jersey business district... reported dead at the scene...
My heart nearly stops when I see the photograph attached at the bottom of the article.
Frank.
His face is smiling back at me from the sun bleached newsprint.
He saved my life.
A tear finds its way out of my eye and down my cheek.
I turn to leave.
"Thank you."
I whisper into the cold, November air.
"Don't let me down." Whispers a familiar voice.
My head whips around, expecting to see Frank again, but the street is desolate. Instead, my eyes rest on the photo of him in the shop window- his smile seeming to have grown.
And as I turn to leave, a new found smile on my lips and determination in my heart, I can't help but think of Frank.
And you know what?
I won't let him down.
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