Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Cobwebs On My Zipper
Patrick
We all filed into the emergency room like people shuffling by a coffin at a funeral. No...don't think like that, Patrick. You're not going to be at a funeral for awhile...Pete's fine. The nurse said so; these people know what they're doing. Pete's fine.
My viciously rampant thoughts were unplugged abruptly as I saw my best friend lying on the white bed. His skin contrasted darkly against the sheets even though he looked unnaturally pale and I believe I lost some color myself. Just hearing the constant beep...beep...beep made my stomach churn as I took of my perfectly clean glasses to clean them. Then, it hit me hard. My best friend hated his life. Pete hated himself and the people around him weren't enough to keep him stable. I felt sick but was calmed as Jess wrapped her shaking arms around me. Shaking myself, I grabbed her hand and tried to whisper to her, but my voice shook too much.
I don't know how long we all stood there, losing the blush in our cheeks and staring at Pete but eventually I squeaked out that I wanted a minute alone.
Without a first word, they filed out and I continued staring at Pete. I didn't know what I wanted to say to him or even if I had the capability, but I stepped up next to him doing my best not to disturb the dust around him. A shining, raven lock of hair had drifted into his face and I brushed it away with concious fingers. Licking my lips, I found inside me the only thing I could bring myself to say even though there were so many things he needed to hear.
"I'm sorry, Pete."
Taking off my hat, I placed it over his crossed arms and left the room.
(+++++++++++++++)
Annoying Author's Interruption
It's been forever...And for a promise, forever is too long. I have to finish this, no matter my prejudices or recent involvements. I have to finish this. As much as I don't want to admit it, this is a good story. The kind of story that I'd be in love with and that's why I need to finish this, and because I promised myself I would. I don't break promises.
I don't quite know what this bothersome paragraph is for, I guess, just to tell all you who read this that I'm still alive and I'm still working on it. I just went through a drastic emotional change in my life and it kinda conflicted with where the story is.
(+++++++++++++++)
Pete
The only thing worse than lying on that hospital bed until an overdone nurse told me I could go was getting out.
For the next three months my life was a childproof hell. My friends didn't trust me; my family didn't trust me and I was officially treated like a three year old with a violent side. They searched through my entire life and removed everything even shaped like a pill while telling me that nothing had changed. Bullshit. For three months, my best friends would make pathetic excuses to follow me around and make sure I wasn't popping pills. It was miserable...it really was.
A couple of months ago, I moved back into the house with Joe and Patrick and I had to admit, I was a lot happier since they were around anytime I needed them.
Jess had gotten together with some old questionable friends of hers and started up a quirky punk rock band with the help of all of us. I have to say that they're better than us when we were just starting.
As for Melissa, everyone silently felt it better not to talk about her and so I almost forgot about her, just almost.
The End
We all filed into the emergency room like people shuffling by a coffin at a funeral. No...don't think like that, Patrick. You're not going to be at a funeral for awhile...Pete's fine. The nurse said so; these people know what they're doing. Pete's fine.
My viciously rampant thoughts were unplugged abruptly as I saw my best friend lying on the white bed. His skin contrasted darkly against the sheets even though he looked unnaturally pale and I believe I lost some color myself. Just hearing the constant beep...beep...beep made my stomach churn as I took of my perfectly clean glasses to clean them. Then, it hit me hard. My best friend hated his life. Pete hated himself and the people around him weren't enough to keep him stable. I felt sick but was calmed as Jess wrapped her shaking arms around me. Shaking myself, I grabbed her hand and tried to whisper to her, but my voice shook too much.
I don't know how long we all stood there, losing the blush in our cheeks and staring at Pete but eventually I squeaked out that I wanted a minute alone.
Without a first word, they filed out and I continued staring at Pete. I didn't know what I wanted to say to him or even if I had the capability, but I stepped up next to him doing my best not to disturb the dust around him. A shining, raven lock of hair had drifted into his face and I brushed it away with concious fingers. Licking my lips, I found inside me the only thing I could bring myself to say even though there were so many things he needed to hear.
"I'm sorry, Pete."
Taking off my hat, I placed it over his crossed arms and left the room.
(+++++++++++++++)
Annoying Author's Interruption
It's been forever...And for a promise, forever is too long. I have to finish this, no matter my prejudices or recent involvements. I have to finish this. As much as I don't want to admit it, this is a good story. The kind of story that I'd be in love with and that's why I need to finish this, and because I promised myself I would. I don't break promises.
I don't quite know what this bothersome paragraph is for, I guess, just to tell all you who read this that I'm still alive and I'm still working on it. I just went through a drastic emotional change in my life and it kinda conflicted with where the story is.
(+++++++++++++++)
Pete
The only thing worse than lying on that hospital bed until an overdone nurse told me I could go was getting out.
For the next three months my life was a childproof hell. My friends didn't trust me; my family didn't trust me and I was officially treated like a three year old with a violent side. They searched through my entire life and removed everything even shaped like a pill while telling me that nothing had changed. Bullshit. For three months, my best friends would make pathetic excuses to follow me around and make sure I wasn't popping pills. It was miserable...it really was.
A couple of months ago, I moved back into the house with Joe and Patrick and I had to admit, I was a lot happier since they were around anytime I needed them.
Jess had gotten together with some old questionable friends of hers and started up a quirky punk rock band with the help of all of us. I have to say that they're better than us when we were just starting.
As for Melissa, everyone silently felt it better not to talk about her and so I almost forgot about her, just almost.
The End
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