Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > I'm Not Sure If This Matters

Chapter 11- Chaotic Meets Death- Figuratively

by moocow 3 reviews

this is sadder.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: R - Genres: Drama - Warnings: [!!] [?] - Published: 2006-09-17 - Updated: 2006-09-18 - 1083 words

I had developed a cold over the last months, and my live had become hectic, with my 19th birthday passing and more and more bills piling in as Ashley stayed in the hospital. It was early November and the oh-so-familiar snow started to sprinkle and cover the dead grass with pure white. The days became shorter and the nights became longer.

And still- Ashley was not getting better.


I raised a shaky hand to my mouth and let the warm coffee slip down my sore throat as I observed the latest bill that had come in. Recently our dad had gotten news of it, and transferred even more money into our account; in a desperate plead for forgiveness.

Needless to say, I never called him.

"Have you talked to Pete yet?" Patrick asked from behind me. Patrick too had started to come over more and more and actually decided to move in for the time being last week.

It was Ashley's promise that he indented to keep that I didn't do anything stupid to myself and to help me get through this. But what was I supposed to do?

My twin sister was dying right in front of my eyes.

"No," I said and looked back to the paper as he sighed.

"Ashley feels bad," I looked up to see his sad blue eyes slightly twinkling. "She...she really wants to see him," he whispered and caught my eyes again. I stared at him for a second before reaching out for my keys.

"Would he mind a visit?" I asked and Patrick took them from my grasp.

"I know a way in," I smirked.


I dusted the white flakes from my shoulder, half from the snow and half from the plaster of the basement window. Patrick spent a good half hour digging it out and we snuck in around 9. Apparently only one car stood outside the house, Pete's car. I sighed as we walked upstairs only to see his bathroom door closed, water running. Patrick raised an eyebrow and I hushed him before leaning against the door and listening in.

"I...I'm such a failure," My eyes widened as I heard the sniffs and a few bashing together of the sink and metal objects. Biting my lip I tried the door to find it open.

Bursting it open I made Pete jump from where he sat awkwardly on the edge of the bathtub in his boxers, shivering as his tearful brown eyes caught my glazing blue. My eyes drifted over him and to his wrist where he held just what I presumed, a razorblade. Patrick gulped from behind me and I dashed forward, the slightest of words escaping my lips.

"Patrick, get towels, first aid, lock his bedroom door, hurry," I breathed and heard his footsteps scatter away.

I kneeled in front of Pete as he fell to his own, the clatter of the blade falling to the floor as my small arms gathered his head into my neck, his bloody wrists falling in my lap as I tried to gather myself together.

"Jenny," he sobbed and I sighed, shaking my head.

"Shhhh," I soothed him as my own tears surfaced and held him as he cried softly, his rapid heartbeat echoing through my own chest.

"Jenny," I heard a soft whisper behind me and I gulped, turning my head as Patrick dropped the things next to us.

"Get his bed ready," I whispered and Patrick nodded once before complying.

"I'm sorry," I heard next and pushed Pete's head off my shoulder to see the regret in his eyes. I looked down at his wrists and lightly ran my fingertips over them, blood staining them in the process.

"Just..." I stopped and cleaned them off, watching him hiss as I doused them with alcohol and bandaged them. After I was done I breathed out and saw out of the corner of my eye Pete's hand raise to wipe an escaping tear from my eye.

"Please don't cry, because you'll make me cry," he pleaded and I nodded once before standing and helping him stand.

He followed like a lost puppy, even the look until I sat him down on one of the twin beds, the sheets pulled back and Patrick making himself comfortable on the other.

"I'm assuming we're staying, right?" I nodded and he soon left mumbling something about getting water. Pete pulled a t-shirt over his head and I stood over him as he situated himself on the bed watching as I tucked him in.

"I'm sorry you had to do this," he said, eyes heavy. I shook my head.

"I'm sorry that you felt this is necessary," I sat down on the edge and shook my head. "What's wrong?" I asked and Pete closed his eyes.

"I love Ashley," And that's all he said. I watched him until he fell asleep and Patrick's footsteps coming back into the room.

"He ok?" he whispered and I nodded with out looking at him.

My hand went to Pete's face and I pushed his hair away before closing my eyes and swallowing a large lump in my throat. I stood and turned to see Patrick sitting on the bed, pushing back the covers and climbing in.

"I'm so scared," I admitted and he stopped, sitting up and padding the small space next to him.

"You need sleep," he told me and I sighed, crawling in and letting myself curl into his form, my eyes closing. "And just dream for once..."


I watched Ashley sleep, my heavy and sad eyes dry from crying and lack of sleep. It was going on mid November now, and all this time, Ashley showed no improvement.

She was losing the fight.

Just as I closed my eyes, the door opened and the doctor smiled an understanding smile before looking back down at his paperwork.

"Jennifer, I think it's best you find this out before we tell Ashley," I nodded and he sighed. "Ashley, she's...she's not going to make it past the end of the year," he said in a low voice and I gulped, understanding.

"Ok," It's all I could muster.

"We're giving her until early December," he continued and I closed my eyes. "I'm so sorry, Miss Goodworst," I looked up at him.

"Chaotic, Miss Chaotic," I corrected and he nodded before slipping out again. I licked my lips and looked down at Ashley.

Is this how she was to spend the rest of her life?
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