Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Presense House
How dare she...blood on the walls, message in the mirror
5 reviews"I can't breathe." My Chem is in a New house to write some new songs for the record but why is everyone so "freaked"?
2Ambiance
"It's old, but it will do."
Those words played from my lips intently, here's where we'd get some of the record done I thought. I wiped at some dust from a partridge statue, the thick layer stained my fingertips a dull smoky gray.
"Your sure?"
I looked to my brother; his new eyes scanning what glasses would have only helped him to see. I nodded slowly.
"I'm sure."
He let one nod be enough before leaving the room. I stayed. Watching the light change as it came through the sectarian glass. I could almost hear the next cord of our intended song. Scratching at an itch on the crown of my head; Bob entered the room.
"I'm just getting creeped out standing in the sunbeams."
"It's neat right," I called out from a dimmer part of the chamber.
Bob shuttered slightly instinctively he tried the fastened window. Without a single notice or sign of budge he ceased. I direly bowed from higher back and took to an overly sized tall backed chair, like Vincent Price. Bob cleared the room to lend aid as equipment needed to be unloaded to the exasperating basement. I would venture there when light had ceased from the tan window panes of the east end hall. Dark would be better in this house I teased myself, much more like a horror flick
"Gerard, if you could we need a hand."
I looked to my short friend, his tattooed arms lay less colorful in here, in this room. I sat forward as anyone portraying to move to stance would; but he knew this trick several times over.
"Come on."
I threw my hands lowly and stood; straighting my back. Hearing several stretching cracks i moved back out to a brightly lit lawn on a small acre lot.
"Give us a hand."
I trudge roguishly to Ray, his curls fresh in bounce. My friend had showered this morning; seemed to be an increasing habit as we grew more cloyed from inspiration.
"I think this place is just the thing our jaded minds need," I pushed involvedly, "It's fresh, it's a new slate."
"It's horror show waiting to happen."
I gathered an amp into my adjacent limb; fixing my grip I gave Ray a muted look. They're all freaked I thought placing it with the volleyed word I'd heard throughout my last grade school years. I was excited, but I had a cumbersome feeling I was the only one.
"Exactly," I muttered below my breath, only my own thoughts caught it.
Those words played from my lips intently, here's where we'd get some of the record done I thought. I wiped at some dust from a partridge statue, the thick layer stained my fingertips a dull smoky gray.
"Your sure?"
I looked to my brother; his new eyes scanning what glasses would have only helped him to see. I nodded slowly.
"I'm sure."
He let one nod be enough before leaving the room. I stayed. Watching the light change as it came through the sectarian glass. I could almost hear the next cord of our intended song. Scratching at an itch on the crown of my head; Bob entered the room.
"I'm just getting creeped out standing in the sunbeams."
"It's neat right," I called out from a dimmer part of the chamber.
Bob shuttered slightly instinctively he tried the fastened window. Without a single notice or sign of budge he ceased. I direly bowed from higher back and took to an overly sized tall backed chair, like Vincent Price. Bob cleared the room to lend aid as equipment needed to be unloaded to the exasperating basement. I would venture there when light had ceased from the tan window panes of the east end hall. Dark would be better in this house I teased myself, much more like a horror flick
"Gerard, if you could we need a hand."
I looked to my short friend, his tattooed arms lay less colorful in here, in this room. I sat forward as anyone portraying to move to stance would; but he knew this trick several times over.
"Come on."
I threw my hands lowly and stood; straighting my back. Hearing several stretching cracks i moved back out to a brightly lit lawn on a small acre lot.
"Give us a hand."
I trudge roguishly to Ray, his curls fresh in bounce. My friend had showered this morning; seemed to be an increasing habit as we grew more cloyed from inspiration.
"I think this place is just the thing our jaded minds need," I pushed involvedly, "It's fresh, it's a new slate."
"It's horror show waiting to happen."
I gathered an amp into my adjacent limb; fixing my grip I gave Ray a muted look. They're all freaked I thought placing it with the volleyed word I'd heard throughout my last grade school years. I was excited, but I had a cumbersome feeling I was the only one.
"Exactly," I muttered below my breath, only my own thoughts caught it.
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