Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Sisterly Love
I've Got Another Confession To Make
6 reviewsYes, those are the lyrics to a song, I'm just brainded and a moron so I can't remember who it's by. El makes a confession. Easy enough.
0Unrated
I'm kinda depressed right now. One of my sort-of-friends just died, so I'm like, yeah, depressed.
I'll try not to make this depressing... Hey, maybe it'll put me in a good mood.
Enjoy.
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I'VE GOT ANOTHER CONFESSION TO MAKE
I awoke. Then, you know what I did? I hit my head.
"Oh, motherfucking bed." I muttered, sitting up. I was on the floor, like usual when I went to bed on an actual bed- I always ended up on the cold, hard floor. I slid to a standing position, then walked around the bed to see that Mikey had already gotten up. And something downstairs was burning...
- -
"Mikey, oh my God!" I said, gaping at him. He was asleep on the counter, his feet stretched out on the cold side of the stove as what looked like an egg burned. The man slowly opened his eyes, then sat up more and looked at where he was.
"Oh, fuck!" He yelled, instantly twisting and somehow falling off of the whole counter, and knocking the egg off of the stove too. I couldn't contain the giggles when I saw this. He slowly sat up, the burnt egg dripping from his face, onto his Anthrax shirt.
"Oh. Mother. Fucking. Shit." He said, then yelped, jumping up and sticking his head in the sink and dropping his glasses on the counter. I turned off the stove as I heard him wash the best he could.
"Okay, Mik, that was pretty good. Just about as good as picturing something like Frankie hitting on a man. You know, weird, awkward, funny." He glared at me and my mouth closed. After a bit, I noticed something. My eyes widened.
"Um, Mik, I think-"
"You know, I don't care." He said, drying his hair off with a towel.
"No, actually, this is kind of-"
"Kind of like Frankie hitting on a man. I get it."
"No, Mikes," I said, and then I burst out laughing. "Your fucking pants are on fire!" I finally yelled out, and he looked down and gaped at his pants.
"Oh, fuck!" He shouted, and didn't even give warning- he just slid his pants off. I turned and covered my eyes, my face cracking into a smile at his curses.
"Damn. That was really..."
"Stupid?" I cut in, turning around to see him sitting on a chair, staring at the ceiling. "Wow. You and Gerard wear the same boxers?" I asked, feeling the silky material between my index finger and my thumb that I was wearing. He blushed, and I retrieved his glasses from the counter and handed them to him.
"Oh my God, Mikes, what'd you do to your leg?" I asked, knowing the answer immediately. "You burned your leg?"
"Yeah, it kinda hurts." I slid over to the cabinets and such and looked around. Finally, after searching I found a ziplock bag that would cover the burn completely. I slid ice into it from the freezer, and then smashed it flat and grabbed some sort of medical wrap that you could use for a minorly sprained ankle or something.
"Don't move. This could be fatal. A mere surgeon could screw this up." I said, crouching near his leg and pressing the bag against his 'wound' and holding it there as I wrapped the wrap around his leg and the bag, tightly, so it would stay there.
"I consider you fixed." I said, standing and crossing my arms.
"Thanks." He said quietly, standing.
- - - -
THEIR HOUSE still
searching for her stuff
3:23 PM
- - - -
It wasn't too loud in the living room sort of area, except for Mikey, Ray and Bob sitting on the couch and playing some video game. Then, there was a crash from the kitchen, and boredly I slid there and saw Frank staring at a piece of paper with my backpack on the floor.
"You treat my backpack like jell-o. Jell-o squishes, my backpack'll just crack." I murmured quietly, picking it up and then realizing what Frankie was looking at.
"Oh. Frank, I, um, ooh... Wow this is hard. It's like trying to break up with a boyfriend that you love, you know? No, you don't know. Frank? Shit. You're pissed, aren't you?" He didn't move.
"Oh my God! I have a SISSY!" He shouted, dropping the paper and hugging me tightly. He jumped up and down as Ray, Bob, Mikey, and Gerard- wearing my jeans- slid through the door.
"Frankie, are you high or something?" Bob asked, looking at him as he jumped and then at me as I smiled and shook my head.
"I'll have to admit, I never thought he'd react this way..." I said quietly as Frankie calmed down.
"Oh! First we have to play that one twenty questions game. And then... you can come on tour with us next week!" He hugged me again as Gerard picked up the sheet of paper.
"Holy fuck." He said, and Mikey's eyes bugged out as he saw my birth certificate: proving that I was Frankie's little sister.
"Why did I never know I had a 'lil sissy?" He asked once everyone sort of figured out the news.
"I'm not really sure, actually. I think the whole pregnancy might've been a secret... I honestly don't know, but I was given up, that's for sure." I said, shrugging. Frankie wrinkled his nose, and pulled out his cell phone and held down a number until there was a ringing. He held up a finger, then fled the room as he said,
"Hey, Mom, no, everything's fine really, no, nobody's dead..."
- - - -
AT THE HOUSE
5:53 PM
the same night
- - - -
I made them something called Chinese food, where you call a certain number and food appears on your doorstep.
"Ok, now for the twenty questions game. We all ask four questions. /I /go first." Frankie stated, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter. "Okay, what's your favorite movie?" I smirked.
"Night Of The Living Dead or The Hills Have Eyes." I responded, chewing on an egg roll. Then Gerard asked as we went clockwise around the table.
"Would you prefer vampires or werewolves?" I looked at him as if he were stupid.
"What kind of question was that? Werewolves, if you need to know."
"Traitor." Whispered Gerard quietly, shaking his head.
"Okay, um, where did you live before you came here? Like, where were you born and stuff?" I glanced at Bob, knowing he would like the response.
"I was born in Chicago. Lived there until I turned eighteen and went to college at Middlebury, Vermont." Bob beamed and then began to think about his question.
"Are you or were you a My Chemical Romance fan?" He asked, and I shrugged.
"I kind of was. I mean, not really. I knew you existed and if one of your songs came on the radio I would listen to it."
"What's the craziest thing you've ever done?" Ray asked, and I sighed.
"Well if you want to know I'll have to tell the whole story. First, I was at the drive in, and the gate that led into the storage place was open..." The questions droned on and on, sometimes with stupid ones like: what's your favorite color? (which was green) or what's your middle name? (which was Lynn). Finally, when they were done, we threw out the trash and I dropped dead on the couch.
- - - -
AT THE STORE
four days later
12:23 PM
- - - -
"Bob, Kraft Macaroni and Cheese is better."
"But this looks so much better then that crap Kraft." He retorted, holding up the box of some other brand like a trophy.
"Kraft is better."
"This is better-er." He said, sticking out his tongue and putting the Kraft macaroni back.
"Oh my God, you're that girl!" Said someone, and I turned around and looked over a girl with my green-brown eyes.
"Um, do I know you?" I asked, and she giggled.
"I saw you at that college party, remember?" Just then Gerard slid into view and began listening. "That one guy was hitting on you, so you punched him, and-" I was nodding very slowly and looking around nervously. This story could get dangerous. "-so when you were on the roof he yelled 'you're a fucking man!' because you punched him instead of slapped him, and then-" I jumped up, then signaled with my finger cutting across my neck for her to stop. "-you yelled 'I'm a woman, bastard!' And pulled down-"
"You know what, I remember now! Thanks! Bye!" I said, turning away to see Gerard gazing at me. He then walked past me and looked at the girl, smirking.
"What exactly did she pull down?" He asked, and she beamed.
"She pulled down her pants and her underwear. And then she yelled 'so go fuck your dad's sorry little ass and meet me in hell, motherfucker' until the cops came and we all scattered." Gerard nodded.
"Cool." He said, and then walked away to catch up to me.
"Satisfied?" I asked, looking in the hot topic store.
"Oh, totally." He and Bob laughed, and I blushed furiously.
"You're all just a bunch of fucking pidgeons. That's right, pidgeons!" With that comment I turned to the two laughing men and scowled. "Whatever, stupids. You'll just die a pidgeon and I'll die as the girl who pulled her pants down. Pidgeons!"
--------------------------------
I hate pidgeons. They're like mini-monkies with wings. Because I hate monkies too.
Oh well.
Bye!
I'll try not to make this depressing... Hey, maybe it'll put me in a good mood.
Enjoy.
---------------------
I'VE GOT ANOTHER CONFESSION TO MAKE
I awoke. Then, you know what I did? I hit my head.
"Oh, motherfucking bed." I muttered, sitting up. I was on the floor, like usual when I went to bed on an actual bed- I always ended up on the cold, hard floor. I slid to a standing position, then walked around the bed to see that Mikey had already gotten up. And something downstairs was burning...
- -
"Mikey, oh my God!" I said, gaping at him. He was asleep on the counter, his feet stretched out on the cold side of the stove as what looked like an egg burned. The man slowly opened his eyes, then sat up more and looked at where he was.
"Oh, fuck!" He yelled, instantly twisting and somehow falling off of the whole counter, and knocking the egg off of the stove too. I couldn't contain the giggles when I saw this. He slowly sat up, the burnt egg dripping from his face, onto his Anthrax shirt.
"Oh. Mother. Fucking. Shit." He said, then yelped, jumping up and sticking his head in the sink and dropping his glasses on the counter. I turned off the stove as I heard him wash the best he could.
"Okay, Mik, that was pretty good. Just about as good as picturing something like Frankie hitting on a man. You know, weird, awkward, funny." He glared at me and my mouth closed. After a bit, I noticed something. My eyes widened.
"Um, Mik, I think-"
"You know, I don't care." He said, drying his hair off with a towel.
"No, actually, this is kind of-"
"Kind of like Frankie hitting on a man. I get it."
"No, Mikes," I said, and then I burst out laughing. "Your fucking pants are on fire!" I finally yelled out, and he looked down and gaped at his pants.
"Oh, fuck!" He shouted, and didn't even give warning- he just slid his pants off. I turned and covered my eyes, my face cracking into a smile at his curses.
"Damn. That was really..."
"Stupid?" I cut in, turning around to see him sitting on a chair, staring at the ceiling. "Wow. You and Gerard wear the same boxers?" I asked, feeling the silky material between my index finger and my thumb that I was wearing. He blushed, and I retrieved his glasses from the counter and handed them to him.
"Oh my God, Mikes, what'd you do to your leg?" I asked, knowing the answer immediately. "You burned your leg?"
"Yeah, it kinda hurts." I slid over to the cabinets and such and looked around. Finally, after searching I found a ziplock bag that would cover the burn completely. I slid ice into it from the freezer, and then smashed it flat and grabbed some sort of medical wrap that you could use for a minorly sprained ankle or something.
"Don't move. This could be fatal. A mere surgeon could screw this up." I said, crouching near his leg and pressing the bag against his 'wound' and holding it there as I wrapped the wrap around his leg and the bag, tightly, so it would stay there.
"I consider you fixed." I said, standing and crossing my arms.
"Thanks." He said quietly, standing.
- - - -
THEIR HOUSE still
searching for her stuff
3:23 PM
- - - -
It wasn't too loud in the living room sort of area, except for Mikey, Ray and Bob sitting on the couch and playing some video game. Then, there was a crash from the kitchen, and boredly I slid there and saw Frank staring at a piece of paper with my backpack on the floor.
"You treat my backpack like jell-o. Jell-o squishes, my backpack'll just crack." I murmured quietly, picking it up and then realizing what Frankie was looking at.
"Oh. Frank, I, um, ooh... Wow this is hard. It's like trying to break up with a boyfriend that you love, you know? No, you don't know. Frank? Shit. You're pissed, aren't you?" He didn't move.
"Oh my God! I have a SISSY!" He shouted, dropping the paper and hugging me tightly. He jumped up and down as Ray, Bob, Mikey, and Gerard- wearing my jeans- slid through the door.
"Frankie, are you high or something?" Bob asked, looking at him as he jumped and then at me as I smiled and shook my head.
"I'll have to admit, I never thought he'd react this way..." I said quietly as Frankie calmed down.
"Oh! First we have to play that one twenty questions game. And then... you can come on tour with us next week!" He hugged me again as Gerard picked up the sheet of paper.
"Holy fuck." He said, and Mikey's eyes bugged out as he saw my birth certificate: proving that I was Frankie's little sister.
"Why did I never know I had a 'lil sissy?" He asked once everyone sort of figured out the news.
"I'm not really sure, actually. I think the whole pregnancy might've been a secret... I honestly don't know, but I was given up, that's for sure." I said, shrugging. Frankie wrinkled his nose, and pulled out his cell phone and held down a number until there was a ringing. He held up a finger, then fled the room as he said,
"Hey, Mom, no, everything's fine really, no, nobody's dead..."
- - - -
AT THE HOUSE
5:53 PM
the same night
- - - -
I made them something called Chinese food, where you call a certain number and food appears on your doorstep.
"Ok, now for the twenty questions game. We all ask four questions. /I /go first." Frankie stated, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter. "Okay, what's your favorite movie?" I smirked.
"Night Of The Living Dead or The Hills Have Eyes." I responded, chewing on an egg roll. Then Gerard asked as we went clockwise around the table.
"Would you prefer vampires or werewolves?" I looked at him as if he were stupid.
"What kind of question was that? Werewolves, if you need to know."
"Traitor." Whispered Gerard quietly, shaking his head.
"Okay, um, where did you live before you came here? Like, where were you born and stuff?" I glanced at Bob, knowing he would like the response.
"I was born in Chicago. Lived there until I turned eighteen and went to college at Middlebury, Vermont." Bob beamed and then began to think about his question.
"Are you or were you a My Chemical Romance fan?" He asked, and I shrugged.
"I kind of was. I mean, not really. I knew you existed and if one of your songs came on the radio I would listen to it."
"What's the craziest thing you've ever done?" Ray asked, and I sighed.
"Well if you want to know I'll have to tell the whole story. First, I was at the drive in, and the gate that led into the storage place was open..." The questions droned on and on, sometimes with stupid ones like: what's your favorite color? (which was green) or what's your middle name? (which was Lynn). Finally, when they were done, we threw out the trash and I dropped dead on the couch.
- - - -
AT THE STORE
four days later
12:23 PM
- - - -
"Bob, Kraft Macaroni and Cheese is better."
"But this looks so much better then that crap Kraft." He retorted, holding up the box of some other brand like a trophy.
"Kraft is better."
"This is better-er." He said, sticking out his tongue and putting the Kraft macaroni back.
"Oh my God, you're that girl!" Said someone, and I turned around and looked over a girl with my green-brown eyes.
"Um, do I know you?" I asked, and she giggled.
"I saw you at that college party, remember?" Just then Gerard slid into view and began listening. "That one guy was hitting on you, so you punched him, and-" I was nodding very slowly and looking around nervously. This story could get dangerous. "-so when you were on the roof he yelled 'you're a fucking man!' because you punched him instead of slapped him, and then-" I jumped up, then signaled with my finger cutting across my neck for her to stop. "-you yelled 'I'm a woman, bastard!' And pulled down-"
"You know what, I remember now! Thanks! Bye!" I said, turning away to see Gerard gazing at me. He then walked past me and looked at the girl, smirking.
"What exactly did she pull down?" He asked, and she beamed.
"She pulled down her pants and her underwear. And then she yelled 'so go fuck your dad's sorry little ass and meet me in hell, motherfucker' until the cops came and we all scattered." Gerard nodded.
"Cool." He said, and then walked away to catch up to me.
"Satisfied?" I asked, looking in the hot topic store.
"Oh, totally." He and Bob laughed, and I blushed furiously.
"You're all just a bunch of fucking pidgeons. That's right, pidgeons!" With that comment I turned to the two laughing men and scowled. "Whatever, stupids. You'll just die a pidgeon and I'll die as the girl who pulled her pants down. Pidgeons!"
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I hate pidgeons. They're like mini-monkies with wings. Because I hate monkies too.
Oh well.
Bye!
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