Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
The Patient.
2 reviews"The midnight black haired patient unexpectedly felt faint. Voices he could hear two seconds ago slowly faded out, he now could only just make out the panicked voices of doctors and fast moving foo...
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The midnight black haired patient unexpectedly felt faint. Voices he could hear two seconds ago slowly faded out, he now could only just make out the panicked voices of doctors and fast moving footsteps.
Something was wrong. He could tell.
Suddenly, a searing pain shot through his chest and he gasped for air.
He'd only been admitted a few measly hours ago. He was told he would be able to leave in a day. The only place he would be leaving to go to now was somewhere very far away from Earth.
He wasn't ready to die. He wasn't prepared.
An abrupt whir of a machine sent another shock through his body. He tried to think of something, anything else to take his mind off it.
He wondered how this would look to those people in the halls. He wondered how they would react.
How would he react to this picture?
*****************
Gerard pushed open the heavy metal hospital door and narrowly missed colliding with a frantic nurse running past him. He attempted to speak an apology but she was already metres behind him. He continued into the immaculately clean, white hallway, feeling like he was walking straight through a cloud.
Gerard couldn't remember why he was at the hospital. The idea of death used to scare him but now it fascinated him in an odd, dark way.
He passed room after room of seriously ill patients. He couldn't help wondering if these people wanted to die this way.
Did they really want to spend their last minutes in an uncomfortable bed?
Did they really want their last meal to be a bowl of foul looking and smelling food? Did they really want to spend their last second surrounded by doctors who barely knew their last name?
As he continued down the piercing white corridor, he found himself surrounded by voices but couldn't clearly make out a single one. Throughout the corner of his dark brown eye he could see distraught wives, collapsing in tears over a recently deceased husband. He wondered if they were fake tears, to help win over their dead husband's fortune.
All of these people couldn't be dying. Gerard couldn't believe the number of identical patients waiting for their impending death. It just couldn't be real. A large percentage of them didn't look a day over twenty. It wasn't fair to them. They should have another fifty years to live out their lives.
It couldn't be real. It just couldn't.
A loud thud caused Gerard to turn his head. He saw a large nearly bald man punching the white hospital wall in anger. He wondered what family member or friend he had lost.
He heard him scream a loud "No!" as he punched the wall again.
Gerard felt like joining him. He suddenly felt just as angry as that man, although he personally hadn't lost anything. It took all of his willpower to not run over there, scream and smash his head against the wall in anger.
As he continued down the hallway, he thought "There must be something these people can do"
There has to be something they could do.
Some form of payment. Rich people must get better treatment from doctors' right?
Why didn't these people spend every cent on getting better and staying alive? It's not like they could spend it in the afterlife. He could hear a woman pleading to a doctor; voicing his thoughts: "There must be something you can do!"
They could do something, Gerard was sure of it.
There had to be something.
He passed a distressed mother; dark circles outlining her blue eyes, tears slowly rolling down her face. The sight of this made tears spring to Gerard's own eyes. The sight of all these people was too much for him. He tried to calculate how many people had lost their lives since he entered the hospital. The thought of how high the number could be made him shake with sadness. One single tear rolled down his face. He brushed it away and continued walking.
Gerard couldn't help wondering whether these people were better off. He occasionally thought anywhere would be better than being here, on this planet. For some odd reason, he envied them; these patients. He realised they were going to a better place, everyone belonged in the afterlife. The sadness, anger, denial and bargaining that was going on in his head suddenly disappeared. He accepted death.
He was suddenly drawn into one patient's room. Doctors surrounded the bed. The sound of whirring machines drowned out nearly all the talking. He could suddenly clearly hear the long beeping sound of a heart monitor. All the doctors faded away.
He focused on the dark haired patient's closed off, peaceful face and instanlty recognized it as his own. He was going to a better place.
Darkness flooded his eyes.
Gerard Way.
May He Rest In Peace.
1977 - 2007.
Something was wrong. He could tell.
Suddenly, a searing pain shot through his chest and he gasped for air.
He'd only been admitted a few measly hours ago. He was told he would be able to leave in a day. The only place he would be leaving to go to now was somewhere very far away from Earth.
He wasn't ready to die. He wasn't prepared.
An abrupt whir of a machine sent another shock through his body. He tried to think of something, anything else to take his mind off it.
He wondered how this would look to those people in the halls. He wondered how they would react.
How would he react to this picture?
*****************
Gerard pushed open the heavy metal hospital door and narrowly missed colliding with a frantic nurse running past him. He attempted to speak an apology but she was already metres behind him. He continued into the immaculately clean, white hallway, feeling like he was walking straight through a cloud.
Gerard couldn't remember why he was at the hospital. The idea of death used to scare him but now it fascinated him in an odd, dark way.
He passed room after room of seriously ill patients. He couldn't help wondering if these people wanted to die this way.
Did they really want to spend their last minutes in an uncomfortable bed?
Did they really want their last meal to be a bowl of foul looking and smelling food? Did they really want to spend their last second surrounded by doctors who barely knew their last name?
As he continued down the piercing white corridor, he found himself surrounded by voices but couldn't clearly make out a single one. Throughout the corner of his dark brown eye he could see distraught wives, collapsing in tears over a recently deceased husband. He wondered if they were fake tears, to help win over their dead husband's fortune.
All of these people couldn't be dying. Gerard couldn't believe the number of identical patients waiting for their impending death. It just couldn't be real. A large percentage of them didn't look a day over twenty. It wasn't fair to them. They should have another fifty years to live out their lives.
It couldn't be real. It just couldn't.
A loud thud caused Gerard to turn his head. He saw a large nearly bald man punching the white hospital wall in anger. He wondered what family member or friend he had lost.
He heard him scream a loud "No!" as he punched the wall again.
Gerard felt like joining him. He suddenly felt just as angry as that man, although he personally hadn't lost anything. It took all of his willpower to not run over there, scream and smash his head against the wall in anger.
As he continued down the hallway, he thought "There must be something these people can do"
There has to be something they could do.
Some form of payment. Rich people must get better treatment from doctors' right?
Why didn't these people spend every cent on getting better and staying alive? It's not like they could spend it in the afterlife. He could hear a woman pleading to a doctor; voicing his thoughts: "There must be something you can do!"
They could do something, Gerard was sure of it.
There had to be something.
He passed a distressed mother; dark circles outlining her blue eyes, tears slowly rolling down her face. The sight of this made tears spring to Gerard's own eyes. The sight of all these people was too much for him. He tried to calculate how many people had lost their lives since he entered the hospital. The thought of how high the number could be made him shake with sadness. One single tear rolled down his face. He brushed it away and continued walking.
Gerard couldn't help wondering whether these people were better off. He occasionally thought anywhere would be better than being here, on this planet. For some odd reason, he envied them; these patients. He realised they were going to a better place, everyone belonged in the afterlife. The sadness, anger, denial and bargaining that was going on in his head suddenly disappeared. He accepted death.
He was suddenly drawn into one patient's room. Doctors surrounded the bed. The sound of whirring machines drowned out nearly all the talking. He could suddenly clearly hear the long beeping sound of a heart monitor. All the doctors faded away.
He focused on the dark haired patient's closed off, peaceful face and instanlty recognized it as his own. He was going to a better place.
Darkness flooded his eyes.
Gerard Way.
May He Rest In Peace.
1977 - 2007.
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