Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Classified: Need Of Help
Later that afternoon, Gerard awoke to a less than pleasant-looking day. The sky leaked itself out over the roof and across the street in various shades of dull, foggy greys. A light fog blanketed the town, and through it Gerard could just about make out a church spire a little bit higher than the horizon.
Shivering, he walked over to his suitcase. Being ever so careful as to not mess up his clothes, to keep them all organized and neat, he found a plain black hoodie and slipped it over his head.
The house was silent, and not a single sound rung throughout it. No sign of Eve around at the moment. Gerard wondered if she was even home.
"Eve?" he called, pondering whether he could be talking to himself. When he heard no answer, he timidly made his way down the stairs, hoping, praying that she was still here. Looking around the beautiful hallway, Gerard walked in and out of the rooms, only to be greeted by sweet nothing.
"Eve?!" he called again, much louder this time. Yet again, he heard nothing. Eve had gone -- she was not here. She'd left Gerard alone, in a house he'd never been in before. His emotions began to close in on him, and following suit, Gerard bunched himself in a ball on the floor and began to yell into his knees. 'How dare she leave us here? Why? She needs to pay, Gerard, and you know how!'
Fully aware but not totally conscious that it was Jeremy trying to pry into his thoughts again, Gerard listened.
"I know." he muttered under his breath.
'It was her. She killed your brother. Can't you already tell? That gleam that she has in her eyes, that fake little smile she flashes and the wonderful house. You know why she does it? She's going to get you next!
Hitching his breath in his throat, Gerard stopped yelling. Frozen to the spot, he looked around. The lovely house, the nice smiles, the helpful appreciation -- Jeremy was right. He looked around the room, something, anything to prove him wrong. Nothing.
Gerard was distracted from his thoughts by the sudden sound of the key turning in the locked door next to him. He wasn't expecting to see Eve walk in with a load of heavy-looking shopping bags in both hands.
"Have you been crying?" she asked, eyeing him questioningly.
"No."
"Ok. Errm, Gerard? Could you be a sweetheart and grab the last bag from the car, please? I'm about to cook tea, and it's getting a bit late on so we'll need to hurry up. It won't be anything fancy tonight. Are chips ok?"
Like milk being sucked up through a straw, all Gerard's bad thoughts of Eve were sucked up into the familiar world of 'What Was I Thinking?' as he got up off his feet to get the bag out of the car. Oh, how wrong he was to think that his own carer would slaughter and abuse him? Eve was fantastic at what she did, in his opinion. But still, Gerard did not trust her.
After the two of them had their tea, they sat on the sofa watching Hellraiser. Gerard's love of horror movies had just inspired him to paint something -- the way things used to be. Ever since he'd been in the mental hospital, he'd never been inspired to paint anything, it would just flow out of his system -- usually gross and disturbing, like an illness regurgitating itself onto the paper that his pencils and paints caressed.
Come midnight, Gerard grew weary of watching movies. Halfway through The Grudge, he noticed that Eve was silently sleeping on the sofa. Once again, Gerard found himself wrapped up in soft blue bedsheets before he could protest anthing else.
The next morning, Eve told Gerard that she had to go out. Deciding to make the most of the time alone he had in this wonderful house, Gerard had some fun. Blasting out some Iron Maiden from Eve's CD collection, he got his paints out and began splodging and sprawling, creating a masterpeice from memory of what he had inspired last night.
The finished result made Gerard extremely proud -- 2 bloodstained faces, both male, joined at the lips by stitches and pins. One of them had no eyes. Standing back and amdiring his work, Gerard flopped on the sofa.
From then on, Eve would go out every day, not getting home till late. It had been ages since Gerard last took his medication, and he felt all the better for it. Although Jeremy never paid visits any more, Gerard had not felt so free and in touch with the world since the first day he bust out of the mental unit. He could finally breathe for himself now, and things stayed perfect -- for a while.
A few months later, it had been weeks since Gerard had last spoken to or heard from Eve. Days and weeks began to blur themselves into one long sorry afternoon TV chatshow. The only times Eve ever seemed to be in would be to put food in the fridge, because there seemed to be an endless supply -- even though Gerard had not seen her.
Worrying every day, Gerard began to pine for some form of human company. Pining began to morph into deperation, and the desperation consumed him. Finally resorting to something, he kicked the pipe under the sink as hard as he could so that it would break.
The repairman who came to fix it was a man called Adam -- tall, slender, toned and attractive. He had brown-blonde hair down to his chin and wore a lip peircing. He slightly resembled Kurt Cobain.
"So how the hell did this happen?" Adam asked, seemingly interested as he fixed the pipe. He was concentrating away from Gerard.
"I have no idea." Gerard replied, eyeing the man tentatively.
His actions got the better of him as he pulled Adam up from his job and forcing his lips against his own -- Gerard didn't know what triggered it. Perhaps from being deprived for so long, or maybe just a longing for human contact? The bulge in his jeans told him to go with the first option.
Adam jumped, and when he knew what he was doing, began to kiss Gerard back. It was then that Gerard slapped him round the face and ran upstairs and locked the bathroom door.
Shivering, he walked over to his suitcase. Being ever so careful as to not mess up his clothes, to keep them all organized and neat, he found a plain black hoodie and slipped it over his head.
The house was silent, and not a single sound rung throughout it. No sign of Eve around at the moment. Gerard wondered if she was even home.
"Eve?" he called, pondering whether he could be talking to himself. When he heard no answer, he timidly made his way down the stairs, hoping, praying that she was still here. Looking around the beautiful hallway, Gerard walked in and out of the rooms, only to be greeted by sweet nothing.
"Eve?!" he called again, much louder this time. Yet again, he heard nothing. Eve had gone -- she was not here. She'd left Gerard alone, in a house he'd never been in before. His emotions began to close in on him, and following suit, Gerard bunched himself in a ball on the floor and began to yell into his knees. 'How dare she leave us here? Why? She needs to pay, Gerard, and you know how!'
Fully aware but not totally conscious that it was Jeremy trying to pry into his thoughts again, Gerard listened.
"I know." he muttered under his breath.
'It was her. She killed your brother. Can't you already tell? That gleam that she has in her eyes, that fake little smile she flashes and the wonderful house. You know why she does it? She's going to get you next!
Hitching his breath in his throat, Gerard stopped yelling. Frozen to the spot, he looked around. The lovely house, the nice smiles, the helpful appreciation -- Jeremy was right. He looked around the room, something, anything to prove him wrong. Nothing.
Gerard was distracted from his thoughts by the sudden sound of the key turning in the locked door next to him. He wasn't expecting to see Eve walk in with a load of heavy-looking shopping bags in both hands.
"Have you been crying?" she asked, eyeing him questioningly.
"No."
"Ok. Errm, Gerard? Could you be a sweetheart and grab the last bag from the car, please? I'm about to cook tea, and it's getting a bit late on so we'll need to hurry up. It won't be anything fancy tonight. Are chips ok?"
Like milk being sucked up through a straw, all Gerard's bad thoughts of Eve were sucked up into the familiar world of 'What Was I Thinking?' as he got up off his feet to get the bag out of the car. Oh, how wrong he was to think that his own carer would slaughter and abuse him? Eve was fantastic at what she did, in his opinion. But still, Gerard did not trust her.
After the two of them had their tea, they sat on the sofa watching Hellraiser. Gerard's love of horror movies had just inspired him to paint something -- the way things used to be. Ever since he'd been in the mental hospital, he'd never been inspired to paint anything, it would just flow out of his system -- usually gross and disturbing, like an illness regurgitating itself onto the paper that his pencils and paints caressed.
Come midnight, Gerard grew weary of watching movies. Halfway through The Grudge, he noticed that Eve was silently sleeping on the sofa. Once again, Gerard found himself wrapped up in soft blue bedsheets before he could protest anthing else.
The next morning, Eve told Gerard that she had to go out. Deciding to make the most of the time alone he had in this wonderful house, Gerard had some fun. Blasting out some Iron Maiden from Eve's CD collection, he got his paints out and began splodging and sprawling, creating a masterpeice from memory of what he had inspired last night.
The finished result made Gerard extremely proud -- 2 bloodstained faces, both male, joined at the lips by stitches and pins. One of them had no eyes. Standing back and amdiring his work, Gerard flopped on the sofa.
From then on, Eve would go out every day, not getting home till late. It had been ages since Gerard last took his medication, and he felt all the better for it. Although Jeremy never paid visits any more, Gerard had not felt so free and in touch with the world since the first day he bust out of the mental unit. He could finally breathe for himself now, and things stayed perfect -- for a while.
A few months later, it had been weeks since Gerard had last spoken to or heard from Eve. Days and weeks began to blur themselves into one long sorry afternoon TV chatshow. The only times Eve ever seemed to be in would be to put food in the fridge, because there seemed to be an endless supply -- even though Gerard had not seen her.
Worrying every day, Gerard began to pine for some form of human company. Pining began to morph into deperation, and the desperation consumed him. Finally resorting to something, he kicked the pipe under the sink as hard as he could so that it would break.
The repairman who came to fix it was a man called Adam -- tall, slender, toned and attractive. He had brown-blonde hair down to his chin and wore a lip peircing. He slightly resembled Kurt Cobain.
"So how the hell did this happen?" Adam asked, seemingly interested as he fixed the pipe. He was concentrating away from Gerard.
"I have no idea." Gerard replied, eyeing the man tentatively.
His actions got the better of him as he pulled Adam up from his job and forcing his lips against his own -- Gerard didn't know what triggered it. Perhaps from being deprived for so long, or maybe just a longing for human contact? The bulge in his jeans told him to go with the first option.
Adam jumped, and when he knew what he was doing, began to kiss Gerard back. It was then that Gerard slapped him round the face and ran upstairs and locked the bathroom door.
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