FicWad

Ray drove back to my house the next morning in complete silence. I was going to ask him what was wrong, but I didn't say anything. He led me into the house and was going to help me up the stairs, but I stopped him.

"I still remember how to climb stairs," I said with a smile. He laughed lightly. I made sure to count the stairs this time so I wouldn't end up falling when I reached the next floor. Unfortunately, that's exactly what happened. I tripped on the last step and landed on my face. I crawled on hands and knees the rest of the way. I reached my room and opened the door, still crawling.

I ran into something when I entered. It was a desk, and it wasn't mine. My room was arranged differently than Gerard's.

'I must have gone to Gerard's room by accident,' I thought. It didn't matter. I kept crawling, but something stopped me again. This time I had no idea what it was, though the picture of Gerard's room was still fresh in my mind. The room smelled strongly of cigarettes. Gerard never used to smoke in his room.

I began to get scared. I figured out that the object in front of me was a person.

Footsteps in the hallway broke through my thoughts. I knew it was Ray. The door opened, and he gasped sharply.

"What?" I asked simply. I wanted to know what was going on.

"G...Gerard..."

Oh God. No. This couldn't be possible.

It was my brother. My brother was lying on the floor in front of me, not moving. I found one of his hands and felt for a pulse, but there was nothing. He was cold, almost like ice. Something was on his arm, and as I ran one finger along it I nearly cried. It was a cut, a deep gash still full of blood. This wasn't possible.

I hugged him. My big brother was dead, but I still expected him to return it. I didn't care that I was getting blood on me. His blood. I felt my mind beginning to shut down.

"Mikey...I think you should take your pills now-"

"No!" I screamed, curling up into a ball and quivering. "I don't need it..."

"It's okay, Mikey," Ray said softly, embracing me. I backed away from him.

"Just leave me alone!" I heard the sound of paper crackling, then Ray left the room. I broke into sobs, letting out all my emotion. My brother was dead. He had killed himself. I wasn't sure how much more bad news I could stand.

"I don't need anything," I muttered to myself. "I don't need anyone. I just want my brother."

'That's right, Mikey.' It was that voice again, the one that had told me I didn't need Alicia, either. 'You don't need anyone.'

"I don't need anyone," I repeated. "I don't need anyone. I don't need anyone..." I sat there in almost total silence for several minutes, crying and talking to myself. Eventually, I heard several sets of footsteps near the room. Someone grabbed my arm and tried to pull me to my feet, but I refused to move. It took three people to drag me out of the room, and I screamed the entire time. They were taking me away from my brother. They couldn't do that.

Someone placed me in a car and it immediately began driving.

"You can't take me away from my brother!" I shouted. "You can't!"

"You'd better do something," one person said quietly. I heard plastic crinkling and crackling, and then the sharp pain of a needle stabbing my arm. I pulled away, but it was too late. The medication had already entered my bloodstream. I felt myself growing sleepy almost right away.

"You can't take me...away...from him..." I said, fighting off the fog of sleep threatening to overtake me. "You...can't-"

I blacked out.