Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Sharpest Lives

A Drink for the Horror that I'm in

by crystalcrash 3 reviews

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Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst - Characters: Gerard Way - Published: 2007-10-09 - Updated: 2007-10-09 - 1241 words - Complete


...and I know that I can't make you stay, but where's you heart? And I know there's nothing I can say to change that part...

I didn't know what to do, so I walked.

I walked down the street, not going anywhere in particular; just walking.

I passed people talking excitedly in groups, people walking their dogs, people talking on their mobile phones, people, people, people... I walked and walked not knowing where I was or where Iwas going.

And not caring.

My head was so full of thoughts that Ithought it would explode... I wished it would. Everything that was happening... Icouldn't understand anything. Why did it have to be so hard? Why couldn't he just feel the same about me and we could love happily ever after? Ha. Like that would ever happen.

I wanted to sit and cry in a corner until the whole world drowned. Instead, I continued walking.

I had never been that way before... so vulnerable. What happened to the guy that always said 'don't let them take you alive'? This whole situation was beyond me, Frankie was obviously my weakness.

I pulled my hood over my head so I wouldn't have to see anyone else, then stuffed my hands back into the pocket of the hoodie I was wearing and continued walking and walking...

I walked until I saw a gas station. I went in to use the bathroom, but on the way out I passed the beverages aisle.

I glanced at the drinks they had, with no intention of buying anything, but then stopped dead in my tracks.

My eyes stopped on the shelf holding bottles with a red labels containing a familiar clear liquid: Smirnoff brand vodka. My old favorite.

Mikey's voice popped into my head: "Promise me you won't do it again? ...don't pick up another bottle... promise?"

I could see his face as if he were right there in front of me... his caring face full of concern...

I looked away from the bottle and left the gas station, but as I did, I replayed the whole scene with Frank in the backyard over again in my head.

I told him I loved him... I finally told him how I felt, as hard as it was, and he walked away! He fucking walked away! How could he walk away from something like that? What the FUCK could he be hiding that makes him act the way he does? Why does everything have to go so wrong!

Thinking about it more was driving me crazy. I was so frustrated because I didn't know what to do, and everything Idid seemed to screw things up even more.

I needed him and he walked away!

I abruptly turned around, trying not to let free the tears threatening to overflow.

I walked back into the gas station, grabbed one of the bottles of vodka, paid for it and left.

When I got out the door, I thought about where I could go to be alone and forget about my existence. I remembered the park Emma used to take us to; there a little trail into a forest started, and it lead to a little open area with a single picnic table. It was the perfect spot to hide.

It wasn't far from where I was, so I went there as fast as I could without running.

When I got there, it was pretty much the same as I remembered it, except the wood of the picnic table was much older and darker now. It would do, though.

I sat on the table and opened the bottle and thought grimly, /a drink for the horror that I'm in/. I held up the bottle as if cheering with someone, and took a long drink.

How could I have thought that Frank felt anything for me... it was obvious that he doesn't. He walked away when I opened myself up to him... I opened my fucking soul to him!

He's ashamed of me, that's the problem. "You're not a fag. Neither am I." I said out loud, as if to prove my point to myself, my grip on the neck of the bottle getting stronger. That's what he had said. He can't even admit what I feel for him, it embarrasses him.

/He's wrong about one thing though/, I thought, taking another long drink, I am obviously a fag or Iwouldn't be here, trying to get drunk to forget his face.

Why did I have to listen to Mikey...? I should have just ignored what I'm feeling and tried to save our friendship, but it's way too late for that!

"Thanks a lot, Mikey, you motherfucker!" I was angry as hell but also on the verge of tears.

Well, at least things can't get any worse... I can't go down any farther! Can't fuck anything else up... what else was there to fuck up?

I drank and drank to try to drown out my thoughts. I was tired of thinking. All I did lately was think and torment myself. And pretend. We can't forget pretend! I laughed grimly, getting drunker by the minute.

What would Mikey say if he saw me now?He'd probably be ashamed too. Just one more person to add to the list. Ray and Bob would be, too. Hell, even I am, I'll go ahead and add myself to the fucking list.

It was already getting dark but I had no idea what time it was... hell, I didn't even know how long ago I had left the house. I didn't mind though, because I didn't want to ever go back. Call me acoward, but I didn't want to go back and face everyone. I had let Mikey down yet again; I couldn't stand to see his face filled with disappointment...

And Frank... how could I look at him again after all that has happened? After all that I've done to him? He doesn't deserve to be tormented by this shit... he could try and forget all the things Ihad told him, but I'd never be able to... I could never forget my feelings after I said them out loud, after finally admitting them...

I remembered the face he put when I told him I was in love with him. He looked so completely sad and pathetic, that I wanted to throw myself off a bridge for doing that to him.

The last thing I wanted in the world was for Frankie to be sad.

I had him backed against the wall with no way out, practically. He didn't know what to say. What could he say if he didn't feel the same way? We were best friends and now look at us. I'm out in the woods getting drunk alone, and he's...

Where the fuck did Frankie go?

My vision started getting blurry and then it was hard for me to keep my eyes open. I looked around and saw I was standing on top of the picnic table.

The bottle of vodka, containing only a few more sips, slipped from my hand as I started feeling weaker, and I heard it crash to the ground, glass shattering and flying in every direction.

Then I blacked out. many bright lights they cast ashadow, but can I speak? Well is it hard understanding? I'm incomplete. A life that's so demanding, I get so weak. A love that's so demanding, I can't speak...
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