Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Psyched
So, it's 2:37 AM and I'm listening to Kanye's awesome single, 'Stronger'. This chapter was written in geometry and has yet to be typed around. On to the excessive additions! BTW, this is where the story really starts to take off. Whoosh!
The wind brushed through my black hair softly, but freezing cold. My exposed face and hands deveolped goosebumps and tried to hid within the shelter of my conservative clothing. It seemed as if my own breath was shivering once it left my mouth. Squeezing my hands open and closed, desperately trying for better circulation, I looked around me and into nothing.
Fog encircled me tightly; a sense of claustrophobia crept through my body and I couldn't help but feel as though I were drowning. In all directions, fog ruled over normal landscape. My eyes flew shut just to delay panic but reluctantly had to open eventually. Desperately, I pleaded for something, anything to interrupt the continuation of the fog.
A small, yellow light bounced through the overhanging clouds and I stumbled towards it. In front of my feet rocks blocked my path and I still couldn't see them. The fact that the closer I got to the light, the thinner the clouds got made the blood rush through my arteries. An edge of a cliff came just under my feet and beneath it was a river gray as the clouds. Closer, the light bobbed to my place of standing until I could see a cloaked figure pushing a boat, gondola style. "Hey," I shouted to him as I almost slipped off the cliff. Just below me, he halted the gondola and stared forward. There had to be eight feet between me and the boat that I stared at warily. Feverishly, I looked along the cliff's edge and searched for a place closer to the water's surface. Silently, the hooded figure pushed off the river bottom with his pole and started again down the river as if this were just another stop on his route. Panicking, I screamed at him to stop and he nicely complied.
Adrenaline and panic conjoined throughout my body as my green eyes closed and I stepped from the cliff. I fell forever. I fell forever and it felt like I thought dying would. Painfully, I landed on my back in the boat and a few tears shed involuntarily from the blinding pain. Above me the figure stared with its hood down over his eyes. An urge to see into the hood grabbed me and I maneuvered my neck around to peek, yet, all I could see was the bright reflection of a metal lip ring. It entranced me. The figure, it was Frank...clean shaven, pointed chin; it had to be him. "Frank?" I pushed myself into a sitting position while my eyes remained riveted on my best friend. He moved his head and that movement alone seemed so much more fluid and natural than any of his prior motions. The hood swung loosely against his pale cheeks as his hazel eyes looked down upon me.
At that moment, I wanted to ask him so many questions, but all escaped from my mind as the two of us stared at each other in the content fog. At this point, the boat had stopped moving, but he regained his compostion , shielded his eyes and continued to push the boat along. "Frank, how do I leave here?"
I had blinked and he was there, blinked again and he was gone. The pole used to push the gondola lay floating on the water's murky surface but it was no longer needed since the current was taking me along.
Slowly, I turned towards the direction the current was going and something caught my eye. An edge. An end to the water where smoke rose, unending.
A shuffling noise eminated, louder than the falls, and it came from outside.
I forced my eyes open and was greeted by a calming white ceiling. The shuffling persisted and turned out to be Mikey getting dressed. As I looked at him, he slid off his shirt. He heard my slight noises and faced me, "Gerard, you're so pale." My own hand touched my face and made contact with the cold sweat running over my skin. "Dream?"
"Yeah."
"Are you---"
"Where's my phone?" He reached over my and grabbed my cell phone from the nightstand. Sitting up, I searched throught the contacts' list.
"Jess," my breathing was heavy.
"Mmm...Gerard...iss five in the morning."
"I'm not okay."
"Whazzah?"
"I'm not okay enough to be alone."
"Are you alone?"
"On the tour. On the tour."
"What iz it you want?"
"Come with me. Come on the tour."
"Fine. Give me some hours to sleep and some to call people."
The wind brushed through my black hair softly, but freezing cold. My exposed face and hands deveolped goosebumps and tried to hid within the shelter of my conservative clothing. It seemed as if my own breath was shivering once it left my mouth. Squeezing my hands open and closed, desperately trying for better circulation, I looked around me and into nothing.
Fog encircled me tightly; a sense of claustrophobia crept through my body and I couldn't help but feel as though I were drowning. In all directions, fog ruled over normal landscape. My eyes flew shut just to delay panic but reluctantly had to open eventually. Desperately, I pleaded for something, anything to interrupt the continuation of the fog.
A small, yellow light bounced through the overhanging clouds and I stumbled towards it. In front of my feet rocks blocked my path and I still couldn't see them. The fact that the closer I got to the light, the thinner the clouds got made the blood rush through my arteries. An edge of a cliff came just under my feet and beneath it was a river gray as the clouds. Closer, the light bobbed to my place of standing until I could see a cloaked figure pushing a boat, gondola style. "Hey," I shouted to him as I almost slipped off the cliff. Just below me, he halted the gondola and stared forward. There had to be eight feet between me and the boat that I stared at warily. Feverishly, I looked along the cliff's edge and searched for a place closer to the water's surface. Silently, the hooded figure pushed off the river bottom with his pole and started again down the river as if this were just another stop on his route. Panicking, I screamed at him to stop and he nicely complied.
Adrenaline and panic conjoined throughout my body as my green eyes closed and I stepped from the cliff. I fell forever. I fell forever and it felt like I thought dying would. Painfully, I landed on my back in the boat and a few tears shed involuntarily from the blinding pain. Above me the figure stared with its hood down over his eyes. An urge to see into the hood grabbed me and I maneuvered my neck around to peek, yet, all I could see was the bright reflection of a metal lip ring. It entranced me. The figure, it was Frank...clean shaven, pointed chin; it had to be him. "Frank?" I pushed myself into a sitting position while my eyes remained riveted on my best friend. He moved his head and that movement alone seemed so much more fluid and natural than any of his prior motions. The hood swung loosely against his pale cheeks as his hazel eyes looked down upon me.
At that moment, I wanted to ask him so many questions, but all escaped from my mind as the two of us stared at each other in the content fog. At this point, the boat had stopped moving, but he regained his compostion , shielded his eyes and continued to push the boat along. "Frank, how do I leave here?"
I had blinked and he was there, blinked again and he was gone. The pole used to push the gondola lay floating on the water's murky surface but it was no longer needed since the current was taking me along.
Slowly, I turned towards the direction the current was going and something caught my eye. An edge. An end to the water where smoke rose, unending.
A shuffling noise eminated, louder than the falls, and it came from outside.
I forced my eyes open and was greeted by a calming white ceiling. The shuffling persisted and turned out to be Mikey getting dressed. As I looked at him, he slid off his shirt. He heard my slight noises and faced me, "Gerard, you're so pale." My own hand touched my face and made contact with the cold sweat running over my skin. "Dream?"
"Yeah."
"Are you---"
"Where's my phone?" He reached over my and grabbed my cell phone from the nightstand. Sitting up, I searched throught the contacts' list.
"Jess," my breathing was heavy.
"Mmm...Gerard...iss five in the morning."
"I'm not okay."
"Whazzah?"
"I'm not okay enough to be alone."
"Are you alone?"
"On the tour. On the tour."
"What iz it you want?"
"Come with me. Come on the tour."
"Fine. Give me some hours to sleep and some to call people."
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