Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Classified: Need Of Help
The cafetéria was a depressing sight. Gerard and Frank happened to walk in at a very unfortunate time, during the middle of someone having an emotional breakdown. It was Jessica, a girl Gerard was not over-friendly with. She'd snorted so much coke in her life, he was surprised she still had a nose.
Jessica was crying very loudly in the middle of the room on the floor. She was wailing and cradling her head in her hands, crouched in a ball. Gerard wasn't sure what she wanted or what was the matter, but he sure as hell wanted to eat and get out as soon as time would allow him.
Frank, however, watched the young woman from a distance. He was still standing behind the doorway, watching with intrigue. This place was a whole lot more intimidating than he first imagined when he was told he would come here. The huge iron fence round the whole hospital secured his suspicions before he even got there.
"Are you coming?" Gerard stood at a nearby table, motioning to the food counter where breakfast was being served. He was felt his stomach rumble violently; he hadn't eaten in three days.
"I..." Frankie was still watching Jessica with fixated eyes as a pair of medics dressed all in white came rushing over to the so-called tragedy lying in the middle of the floor bawling hey eyes out.
"Frank?!"
"Yeah, Gerard. I'm coming..."
The two boys chose a table at one of the left corners of the café. A small, 2-seated table waited ahead of them, jut begging to be sat at. Gerard didn't like these tables, they were always too boring in terms of design. He sported for his morning meal an apple, a bowl of cereal and three cups of coffee: one for now, and two for back-up later. He didn't care if they got cold.
Frank, on the other hand, stared gormlessly at his hot pancakes with sugar and lemon drizzle. Instead of eating, his eyes bore into them as though they had grown a head or some sort of obscenity.
"Well, we don't eat again until lunch. I'm not eating at lunch, but you'll get such an appetitie." Gerard motioned towards the pancakes, from which Frank had looked up, and acted on Gerard's advice.
Between mouthfuls, Frankie said, "So what do we do all day here?"
Gerard picked at his apple in brief thought.
"Well, it's councelling first thing. You'll hate it."
"Oh, God, more analysing?"
"Yeah, it's a drag. Just don't give them any satisfaction and they'll stay off your back."
"What do we have after that?" Frankie was anxious to find out, councelling sounded awful.
"Councelling is until... lunch, then we have that. And after lunch I have Art Therapy. You can come along if you want."
"I'm not much of a painter myself, but I'll give it a try." he smiled weakly.
Gerard had eaten half a bowl of cereal, and all of the supposed "stock" coffee for later had all gone by now.
"Well, I have to go now. I'll see you in here at lunctime. If I'm not here, I'll be by the Art room. Just ask someone for directions."
All of a sudden, Gerard seemed to be gone, and poor Frankie sat alone at the café table.
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"And... How does that make you feel, Gerard?" Miss Bell, Gerard's counsellor, was getting stressed. So far, Gerard hadn't played ball at all and was still as rigid as a board in his chair, his face constantly spitting that familiar scowl she knew so well.
"It doesn't." was his short reply, cold, toneless and unmeaningful. Gerard hated counselling.
"Surely, you must be able to feel something?"
"I CAN'T FEEL ANYTHING!!! SHUT UP!!" Gerard yelled, storming up out of his seat. He picked up the chair and threw it; not far, but hard enough to make a huge crash that echoed everywhere. He stormed out of the door, a hurricane in his presence. As he felt his demons begin to take over again, he was overcame by a familiar voice.
'Well done, Gerard. We can do it. You showed her, we don't need them.'
Jeremy was back.
Jessica was crying very loudly in the middle of the room on the floor. She was wailing and cradling her head in her hands, crouched in a ball. Gerard wasn't sure what she wanted or what was the matter, but he sure as hell wanted to eat and get out as soon as time would allow him.
Frank, however, watched the young woman from a distance. He was still standing behind the doorway, watching with intrigue. This place was a whole lot more intimidating than he first imagined when he was told he would come here. The huge iron fence round the whole hospital secured his suspicions before he even got there.
"Are you coming?" Gerard stood at a nearby table, motioning to the food counter where breakfast was being served. He was felt his stomach rumble violently; he hadn't eaten in three days.
"I..." Frankie was still watching Jessica with fixated eyes as a pair of medics dressed all in white came rushing over to the so-called tragedy lying in the middle of the floor bawling hey eyes out.
"Frank?!"
"Yeah, Gerard. I'm coming..."
The two boys chose a table at one of the left corners of the café. A small, 2-seated table waited ahead of them, jut begging to be sat at. Gerard didn't like these tables, they were always too boring in terms of design. He sported for his morning meal an apple, a bowl of cereal and three cups of coffee: one for now, and two for back-up later. He didn't care if they got cold.
Frank, on the other hand, stared gormlessly at his hot pancakes with sugar and lemon drizzle. Instead of eating, his eyes bore into them as though they had grown a head or some sort of obscenity.
"Well, we don't eat again until lunch. I'm not eating at lunch, but you'll get such an appetitie." Gerard motioned towards the pancakes, from which Frank had looked up, and acted on Gerard's advice.
Between mouthfuls, Frankie said, "So what do we do all day here?"
Gerard picked at his apple in brief thought.
"Well, it's councelling first thing. You'll hate it."
"Oh, God, more analysing?"
"Yeah, it's a drag. Just don't give them any satisfaction and they'll stay off your back."
"What do we have after that?" Frankie was anxious to find out, councelling sounded awful.
"Councelling is until... lunch, then we have that. And after lunch I have Art Therapy. You can come along if you want."
"I'm not much of a painter myself, but I'll give it a try." he smiled weakly.
Gerard had eaten half a bowl of cereal, and all of the supposed "stock" coffee for later had all gone by now.
"Well, I have to go now. I'll see you in here at lunctime. If I'm not here, I'll be by the Art room. Just ask someone for directions."
All of a sudden, Gerard seemed to be gone, and poor Frankie sat alone at the café table.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"And... How does that make you feel, Gerard?" Miss Bell, Gerard's counsellor, was getting stressed. So far, Gerard hadn't played ball at all and was still as rigid as a board in his chair, his face constantly spitting that familiar scowl she knew so well.
"It doesn't." was his short reply, cold, toneless and unmeaningful. Gerard hated counselling.
"Surely, you must be able to feel something?"
"I CAN'T FEEL ANYTHING!!! SHUT UP!!" Gerard yelled, storming up out of his seat. He picked up the chair and threw it; not far, but hard enough to make a huge crash that echoed everywhere. He stormed out of the door, a hurricane in his presence. As he felt his demons begin to take over again, he was overcame by a familiar voice.
'Well done, Gerard. We can do it. You showed her, we don't need them.'
Jeremy was back.
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