Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Telekinetic Episodes
I Wanna Be Sedated
3 reviewsHurry hurry hurry before I go insane I can't control my fingers I can't control my brain
3Original
Title: Ramones. I'm into some pretty old school shit.
The motel Frank had chosen was probably one of the most terrifying places he’s ever had to stay in. A couple of times he had even considered just leaving to sleep in an alley way. So far Frank had counted two rats, eight roaches, and was convinced at least ninety percent of the other people there were having violent sex. The other ten percent were most likely homeless.
Frank realized that he was part of that ten percent, he was homeless. He had never really sat down to think about it until now.He missed his soft bed at home. Frank began to feel extremely angry. Frank had gathered from years of experimenting that when he was feeling something intensely he would usually have telekinetic episodes. So when he would be sad, angry, and, as sad as it is, happy, things would break or fly without him wanting it to.
Obviously, this made it rather hard to be normal human being. He could destroy a whole room with his brain just because he was depressed. This complication forced Frank to grow up quickly, to learn how to not feel things. Unfortunately, Frank is a passionate person, it's just his personality.
Frank thought about how his foster mom would cry when she would climb the stairs to find him missing. Frank wasn’t stupid, he had left a note explaining everything best he could without revealing his secret. He was turning eighteen in less than a month, and then he was untouchable ,a legal adult. He had been planning this since he was thirteen, he had made sure the police wouldn’t be able to bring him back home. As long as he kept his head down for a month everything would play out smoothly. That didn’t stop him from being mad.
Mad at himself, mad at his “problem”, mad at the couple next door that wouldn’t shut up. He thought about everything building up inside him, screaming to be set free, to be heard, and then he snapped.
A lamp flew by, and then a table, followed by the old 90’s phone, all smashing into the opposite wall. Frank sat on the creaky bed staring at the mess he had created. The shards of broken things that rest on the floor.
Staring at what his mind was capable of.
…
The chilly Jersey air bit at Frank’s cheeks as he leant against the outside of the comic book shop. He had been taking deep breaths, calming himself down. He was still slightly worked up after last nights episode. He was just tired of breaking things when he felt something. Tired of being scared to just let go. He had to come to terms with the fact that he would never be able to truly live.
He was snapped out of his rather redundant thoughts from the sound of keys being jammed into a lock. He glanced over to see the same man, Gerard, from yesterday balancing a coffee in one hand and wrestling the doorknob with the other. After several minutes of grunting and whispered curses the door flew open, letting the scent of unturned pages waft out into the street.
“Come on, kid. I’ll show you how to stock shelves.” Frank was pretty confident in his being able to set things on shelves without a demonstration, but he just shrugged and followed.
Apparently, Frank was wrong in thinking he knew how to stack books because everytime he would set a comic in its place Gerard would scoff and shake his head disapprovingly from his position behind the counter. Acting as if there was actually a wrong way to place things.
Frank was tempted to snap at him, but knew that that could only lead to bad things, so he was a good little employee and asked Gerard to repeat the shelf stocking demonstration. Gerard smiled, fakely of course, and began to over explain book stacking for the second time that morning.
The day wasn’t all that worth explaining. A few kids came in. Some bought things. Others didn’t. Some bought comics worthy of purchase. Most bought useless things, such as fashion magazines and Sports Illustrated.
The whole time Frank placed comics on shelves, and sighed dramatically every time Gerard would tutt at him. Frank sometimes wondered what would happen if he were to expose himself. Maybe they’d except him. Maybe they’d be impressed.
Maybe they’d kill him.
Frank shivered, deciding against ever revealing it to anyone. People were creatures of habit, and a long existing habit of everyone was to push away change. Turn a blind eye to it. Pretend it didn’t exist. Avoid it.
Frank was change. Telekinesis was change. Change was bad. Frank was bad.
Frank turned around to get the other box of comics from the pile of seemingly never ending boxes, only to run into someone’s chest. He looked up at Gerard, who stared down at him.
“I said it’s closing time.” Gerard repeated.
“And I spent the whole day listening to shelf stocking lectures.” This brought a grin to Gerard’s face.
“Get used to it newbie. You clearly have no skills in this art.” Gerard began straightening some of the comics with a frown.
Frank couldn’t help but smile, he was relieved his boss wasn’t a complete asshole. Frank made his way to the door, not looking forward to returning to his motel room, where his feelings would be able to fester.
A hand stopped him, firmly placed on his shoulder.
“Listen, kid, uh, Frank. Tomorrow would you like to go out to lunch?” Gerard questioned, slight nervousness peaking through his calm, collected facade. “I know you said you don’t generally do people, but if we’re working together I should at least get to know you, right?”
No human relations.
“Well, I, uh…”
No human relations.
“Come on, kid.”
No human relations
“I guess it couldn’t hurt, right?”
No human relations. No human relations. No human relations.
This is probably one of the most original things I've ever written, or at least written for a fanfic site. That being said, I am currently enjoying writing this, so if I get a pretty positive response it'll mean frequent updates. I am really excited about this story, please enjoy.
xxLee
The motel Frank had chosen was probably one of the most terrifying places he’s ever had to stay in. A couple of times he had even considered just leaving to sleep in an alley way. So far Frank had counted two rats, eight roaches, and was convinced at least ninety percent of the other people there were having violent sex. The other ten percent were most likely homeless.
Frank realized that he was part of that ten percent, he was homeless. He had never really sat down to think about it until now.He missed his soft bed at home. Frank began to feel extremely angry. Frank had gathered from years of experimenting that when he was feeling something intensely he would usually have telekinetic episodes. So when he would be sad, angry, and, as sad as it is, happy, things would break or fly without him wanting it to.
Obviously, this made it rather hard to be normal human being. He could destroy a whole room with his brain just because he was depressed. This complication forced Frank to grow up quickly, to learn how to not feel things. Unfortunately, Frank is a passionate person, it's just his personality.
Frank thought about how his foster mom would cry when she would climb the stairs to find him missing. Frank wasn’t stupid, he had left a note explaining everything best he could without revealing his secret. He was turning eighteen in less than a month, and then he was untouchable ,a legal adult. He had been planning this since he was thirteen, he had made sure the police wouldn’t be able to bring him back home. As long as he kept his head down for a month everything would play out smoothly. That didn’t stop him from being mad.
Mad at himself, mad at his “problem”, mad at the couple next door that wouldn’t shut up. He thought about everything building up inside him, screaming to be set free, to be heard, and then he snapped.
A lamp flew by, and then a table, followed by the old 90’s phone, all smashing into the opposite wall. Frank sat on the creaky bed staring at the mess he had created. The shards of broken things that rest on the floor.
Staring at what his mind was capable of.
…
The chilly Jersey air bit at Frank’s cheeks as he leant against the outside of the comic book shop. He had been taking deep breaths, calming himself down. He was still slightly worked up after last nights episode. He was just tired of breaking things when he felt something. Tired of being scared to just let go. He had to come to terms with the fact that he would never be able to truly live.
He was snapped out of his rather redundant thoughts from the sound of keys being jammed into a lock. He glanced over to see the same man, Gerard, from yesterday balancing a coffee in one hand and wrestling the doorknob with the other. After several minutes of grunting and whispered curses the door flew open, letting the scent of unturned pages waft out into the street.
“Come on, kid. I’ll show you how to stock shelves.” Frank was pretty confident in his being able to set things on shelves without a demonstration, but he just shrugged and followed.
Apparently, Frank was wrong in thinking he knew how to stack books because everytime he would set a comic in its place Gerard would scoff and shake his head disapprovingly from his position behind the counter. Acting as if there was actually a wrong way to place things.
Frank was tempted to snap at him, but knew that that could only lead to bad things, so he was a good little employee and asked Gerard to repeat the shelf stocking demonstration. Gerard smiled, fakely of course, and began to over explain book stacking for the second time that morning.
The day wasn’t all that worth explaining. A few kids came in. Some bought things. Others didn’t. Some bought comics worthy of purchase. Most bought useless things, such as fashion magazines and Sports Illustrated.
The whole time Frank placed comics on shelves, and sighed dramatically every time Gerard would tutt at him. Frank sometimes wondered what would happen if he were to expose himself. Maybe they’d except him. Maybe they’d be impressed.
Maybe they’d kill him.
Frank shivered, deciding against ever revealing it to anyone. People were creatures of habit, and a long existing habit of everyone was to push away change. Turn a blind eye to it. Pretend it didn’t exist. Avoid it.
Frank was change. Telekinesis was change. Change was bad. Frank was bad.
Frank turned around to get the other box of comics from the pile of seemingly never ending boxes, only to run into someone’s chest. He looked up at Gerard, who stared down at him.
“I said it’s closing time.” Gerard repeated.
“And I spent the whole day listening to shelf stocking lectures.” This brought a grin to Gerard’s face.
“Get used to it newbie. You clearly have no skills in this art.” Gerard began straightening some of the comics with a frown.
Frank couldn’t help but smile, he was relieved his boss wasn’t a complete asshole. Frank made his way to the door, not looking forward to returning to his motel room, where his feelings would be able to fester.
A hand stopped him, firmly placed on his shoulder.
“Listen, kid, uh, Frank. Tomorrow would you like to go out to lunch?” Gerard questioned, slight nervousness peaking through his calm, collected facade. “I know you said you don’t generally do people, but if we’re working together I should at least get to know you, right?”
No human relations.
“Well, I, uh…”
No human relations.
“Come on, kid.”
No human relations
“I guess it couldn’t hurt, right?”
No human relations. No human relations. No human relations.
This is probably one of the most original things I've ever written, or at least written for a fanfic site. That being said, I am currently enjoying writing this, so if I get a pretty positive response it'll mean frequent updates. I am really excited about this story, please enjoy.
xxLee
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