Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > And Without A Sound....And I Wish You Away
Part One:: Cobains Disease [ Chapter Seven - Broken Hearted Savior ]
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7: Broken Hearted Savior
January 9, 2009: 9:43 AM
"Answer, dammit..." Ray growled into the phone. He sighed and canceled the call. As soon as he did, the cell phone chirped out 'Incoming Call'.
As soon as he picked up, Gerard asked, "Did you get a hold of him?"
"No. Not yet. I'm heading out to his place," Ray said.
"Alright. Call me if you get anything."
"Okay." Ray hung up without saying goodbye. He set the cell phone down and drove down the highway, pulling off onto the side road that led to Frank's house. He eased into the long driveway and opened the truck door while the car was moving.
As soon as the toe of his boot touched the gravel, he knew something was wrong. There was no Carmen outside playing, but Frank's car was there. The house was oddly still. There was no breeze ruffling the treetops, the air was still.
What the hell was going on?
He eased out of the truck and reached inside, switching off the ignition. The thrumming motor stopped and the silence seemed to swell around him. A bird warbled but the sound was swallowed by the eerie silence.
Although he didn't know it yet, death had already made its mark on the house.
He walked down the long driveway and tried the large front door cautiously. It was unlocked.
He walked inside and felt goosebumps spread up his arms.
"Frank?" he called, his voice hushed, swallowed up by the silence in the immense house.
Nothing.
He looked through several rooms and finally made it to the stairwell. He hadn't gotten to the first step before he saw him.
His friend's body-there was no denying that he was dead-was flung halfway over the railing of the stairs, less than twenty feet above him. Ray only had to see the gun and the box to know what had happened.
He approached the body detachedly and saw something in its left hand. It was a note.
He pried it out of the hand and walked down the stairs and out of the house. He was halfway to the truck when he vomited.
He straightened up after a second and unfolded the note. He looked it over once.
He leaned against his truck-his legs were shaking so badly he wasn't sure if they would hold him-and pulled out his cell phone.
"Battery-low," the little mechanical voice chirped. The screen flickered for a moment and went dead.
"Shit!"
Okay. He had to think. He had to get back to the guys and tell them what had happened.
Christ, this was going to be hard.
January 9, 2009: 9:43 AM
"Answer, dammit..." Ray growled into the phone. He sighed and canceled the call. As soon as he did, the cell phone chirped out 'Incoming Call'.
As soon as he picked up, Gerard asked, "Did you get a hold of him?"
"No. Not yet. I'm heading out to his place," Ray said.
"Alright. Call me if you get anything."
"Okay." Ray hung up without saying goodbye. He set the cell phone down and drove down the highway, pulling off onto the side road that led to Frank's house. He eased into the long driveway and opened the truck door while the car was moving.
As soon as the toe of his boot touched the gravel, he knew something was wrong. There was no Carmen outside playing, but Frank's car was there. The house was oddly still. There was no breeze ruffling the treetops, the air was still.
What the hell was going on?
He eased out of the truck and reached inside, switching off the ignition. The thrumming motor stopped and the silence seemed to swell around him. A bird warbled but the sound was swallowed by the eerie silence.
Although he didn't know it yet, death had already made its mark on the house.
He walked down the long driveway and tried the large front door cautiously. It was unlocked.
He walked inside and felt goosebumps spread up his arms.
"Frank?" he called, his voice hushed, swallowed up by the silence in the immense house.
Nothing.
He looked through several rooms and finally made it to the stairwell. He hadn't gotten to the first step before he saw him.
His friend's body-there was no denying that he was dead-was flung halfway over the railing of the stairs, less than twenty feet above him. Ray only had to see the gun and the box to know what had happened.
He approached the body detachedly and saw something in its left hand. It was a note.
He pried it out of the hand and walked down the stairs and out of the house. He was halfway to the truck when he vomited.
He straightened up after a second and unfolded the note. He looked it over once.
He leaned against his truck-his legs were shaking so badly he wasn't sure if they would hold him-and pulled out his cell phone.
"Battery-low," the little mechanical voice chirped. The screen flickered for a moment and went dead.
"Shit!"
Okay. He had to think. He had to get back to the guys and tell them what had happened.
Christ, this was going to be hard.
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