An inconsistent pattern of colours and figures tossed rigidly around in Gerard Way's head. Rapid images of things yet unknown to the world -- images that he had not transferred to paper, remained in his mind. They sifted through, questioning his abilities. They tortured him with ideas that he was not yet able to express. They mingled within each other, blurring around the edges until they disappeared into tiny vapors of nothing.
He was merely the age of seventeen, though his mind thought things that middle aged men would never ponder. It was a pungent gift to be cursed with. The ability to know beyond your years was like knowing beforehand exactly when you were going to die.
"And when hydrochloric acid is consumed it can cause severe..."
Gerard snapped out of her reverie. He had, once again, not been paying attention in Chemistry. There was no need -- he excelled in Science. When tests arrived he passed them without much effort. Actually, he didn't put much effort into anything. Mainly because the academic levels were set for standard a student, (who had the brain capacity of a monarch butterfly) and it didn't require much to make an A.
"And who can tell me what hydrochloric acid is a main part of?" The teacher, Ms. Shultz, scanned the room for prey. Her eyes fell on the boy with long, black hair with strikingly pale skin and hazel-green eyes who had his head bent down and was playing with the edge of his Chemistry book. He was by far the quietest one in the classroom: The only one who never uttered a sound unless forced to. During the ten minutes she gave to study before a test, he drew in a notebook or stared out the window. "Mr. Way?"
"Hydrochloric acid is a main component of gastric acid," He answered, without looking up from his textbook. Gerard's answer was quick, his voice a simple monotone. Boredom was laced in his tone, though buried and carefully cultivated to not pronounce itself. Ms. Shultz heard it though. She had been teaching for thirty years, and her highly gifted student was not the only one who had come through her class and used that tone. She would suggest putting him in an AP class, but he was so intelligent. She really couldn't bear to give him over to Mrs. Phillis. To Ms. Shultz, it would be like handing Mrs. Phillis a million dollar ruby out of the kindness of her heart.
"Very good," Ms. Shultz muttered, and she left him alone for the rest of the day. Sometimes she questioned whether he was paying attention or not. Perhaps he wasn't, but he always had every single answer without any sort of hesitation. It was like he'd memorized the book.
The moment the bell rang, Gerard escaped the classroom and fell into the sea of students in the hall. Two football players collided their massive shoulders into his even though he parted ways for them. Aside that, he was ignored. Most stood a good measure of distance from him. He was the only one in the hall wearing black --- everyone else was in hues of blue, an occasion flash of pink or orange, gray, but mostly white.
Gerard's locker was on the bottom, and he bent down and swiveled the combination. He hadn't the slightest notion as to what the combination actually was, it was all from muscle memory that he knew where to stop. As he opened the door, books from above him crashed down on his head. Losing his balance, he fell backward onto the floor and touched his forehead. His head was pounding - aching -- and the sharp pain throbbing in his head made him slightly dizzy. Without an apology, the person collected the books that had fallen, sneered, and sauntered off down the hall.
"What an asshole," A voice said above him. Ray Toro, a tall boy with a mess of curly auburn hair held out his hand for Gerard. They were mere acquaintances, perhaps light friends. Other than that, the only one in the school Gerard had that would talk to him was his brother Mikey, and he was a Freshman.
"Gerard, are you okay?" A shy voice came from behind him. He looked up to see his little brother peering down at him.
"Hey, Way, why are you the one on the ground? Shouldn't you amount to something just to show your younger brother you're not worthless?" A football player threw over his shoulder. A group of girls laughed hysterically.
"C'mon, Gerard. Get up, before they have another go at you," Ray muttered. He pulled Gerard to his feet by his arms. With a slight pat on the back, he nodded and walked away. Gerard glanced back to see his brother look at him through his glasses, innocent and afraid.
Mikey followed Gerard outside to the parking lot after Gerard had gotten his things.
"Gerard, why don't you defend yourself?" Mikey asked urgently. "You're outspoken and opinionated, why won't you tell them off? I've seen you do it!"
"Because it doesn't work like that here, Mikey," Gerard muttered, walking along the sidewalk. "Nothing ever functions normal in this place."
"Oh...but you could show them all! You could," Mikey persisted. "I believe in you."
"You're the only one," Gerard retorted. He glanced over just in time to catch the pained expression upon Mikey's face. Suddenly, Mikey shoved Gerard and knocked him down on the ground.
"What the HELL is your problem?!" Gerard yelled viciously.
"You're the only one I've ever believed in," Mikey spat savagely. "I've looked up to you my whole entire life, and you waste your life away by drinking and letting them push you around. Gerard, I never expected you to be one of those superheros out of the comic books we read....but I at least wanted you to be my brother." Mikey ran, tearing down the sidewalk quicker than Gerard had ever seen him go. His torn up and ragged shoes, that were identical to the ones Gerard had, slapped against the cement as he left. Gerard pushed hair out of his eyes, sighing.
Sign up to rate and review this story