Categories > Celebrities > Linkin Park
Comatose; The 2nd Installment to "Where'd You Go?"
"She was coming back, Mike. She was coming home to you..."
?Blocked
I hate feeling like this
I'm so tired of trying to fight this
I'm asleep and all I dream of
Is waking to you
Mike Shinoda rolled over in bed. He'd awoke from that horrible dream again. Sweat covered his body. The words lingered in his mind again. "She was coming back, Mike." He shook the words from his head. He stood up and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. The cool liquid burned his throat. He'd been screaming out again. He walked into the living room and stared at a picture on the fireplace mantel. It was a picture of Anna and Maineka. They were laughing on a swing at the park. Mike crushed his eyes shut, and his hand, which was resting on the limestone mantel beside the picture, balled into a fist. He hung his head, breathing out heavily, a tear rolling off the end of his nose. He sniffed. The day before, he'd considered removing the picture from this spot. Maybe then the pain wouldn't be so strong everytime he glanced at it. He cursed himself. He couldn't just throw Anna away.
Tell me that you will listen
Your touch is what I'm missing
And the more I hide I realize I'm slowly losing you
He reluctantly pulled himself away from that spot and walked toward the bathroom. He hadn't been out of the house since that catastrophic day. His world had shatted that day. Since then, he hadn't found much reason to get out of bed in the morning. It was the scent of Anna on his pillow that made him roll out of the blankets.
Comatose
I'll never wake up without an overdose of you
Mike made himself get into the shower. He turned on the water as hot as it could go without burning blisters onto his back. It didn't matter if it did. He wouldn't be able to feel it. His body had long since lost all sensation. He just didn't want to face the awkward questions that would arise when Chester saw them when he stopped by. He put his hands on the far wall and hung his head, letting the water engulf his face, and the shower pound his back. He stood that way for a while, open mouthed, his eyes closed, letting the water envelope his face. He finally lifted his head, and ran a hand down his face, wiping away the water from his eyes. He turned off the shower, and ripped back the shower curtain. His towel was laying on the toilet. He picked it up and dried himself off, and put on a pair of athletic shorts. He took out his razor and extra blades from the medicine cabinet to shave his face. He paused...
I hate living without you
Dead wrong to ever doubt you
But my demons lay in waiting
Tempting me away
He stood and stared in the mirror for a long time. He hated looking at himself, but it was the only way that he could see the live features of his daughter. He stared into his own brown eyes, hearing in his mind the laughter of 3-year-old Maineka. He remembered the last time he'd seen her. He remembered the sadness that had been in those eyes as she waved over her mother's shoulder and muttered, "Bye, Daddy." He looked at his nose. He remembered the way that Maineka's tiny, but identical nose got chapped the year before from a heavy cold. He sighed. And he glanced on his mouth. He remembered the smile that used to play on his daughter's lips whenever she was doing something that she knew she shouldn't be. It was the same smile that had graced Mike's face when he held her the day she was born. He loved her so much...
Oh how I adore you
Oh how I thirst for you
Oh how I need you
He closed his eyes and the scene plaed out in front of him again. The worrying. The heartache. The pain. The phone call...
"She was coming back, Mike. She was coming home to you..."
Mike fell against the bathroom cabinet, his knees buckling. His body slid down the stone and wood of the cabinet. He tried to hold onto the sink for support, but he didn't have the strength. He was crushing something in his right hand. He looked down at his palm and realized he was holding one of th extra blades for his razor. He stared at the puncture wounds that it had made in his white palm. He stared for a long time...
Comatose
I'll never wake up without an overdose of you
He lifted it delicately with the fingers of his left hand. He closed his eyes and ran the metal across his right forearm. He opened his eyes and gasped.
Breathing life
Waking up
My eyes
Open up
As he made his movements, the memories and visions came flooding back to him.
"She was coming back, Mike. She was coming home to you. It was a hit and run." He dug the metal farther into his skin, closing his eyes tightly, squeezing tears out. "They said it was instant. She didn't hurt..."
I don't wanna live
I don't wanna breathe
'les I feel you next to me
You take the pain I feel
Waking up to you never felt so real
"...nor did Maineka." He shoved the razor as far as he could get it into his arm. After pulling it out, he made himself stand up. He walked from the bathroom, through he and Anna's bedroom. He turned the corner letting his hand rest on the doorframe for a moment. It was smeared with crimson. He walked across the hallway, through the white door that hadn't been opened since that day, and into his baby's bedroom. He was staining his daughter's carpet with his crimson rapture.
I don't wanna sleep
I don't wanna dream
'cause my dreams don't comfort me
The way you make me feel
Waking up to you never felt so real
He walked toward her book case. DRIP. Anna drove over the bridge, singing happily with Maineka. She was going home to Mike. She would hold him in her arms again. DRIP. Mike fell back against the wall. DRIP. A bright light shone into her windshield and before she could react conciously, her hands were already making the SUV swerve on the icy road. She did her best to lean back and hold Maineka into her car seat. DRIP. Mike held a hand to his face, crying loudly. DRIP. The crunching sound that issued from the front of the car old Anna that she wasn't going to make it. She only prayed that Mike knew how much she loved him and how sorry she was. DRIP. Mike threw his head back into the wall, gasping between cries. DRIP. Dispatchers pulled a woman from a crushed SUV just off of the bridge. They cried when they got into the back seat...
~*~
When Chester didn't get an answer from the front door at Mike's house, he decided that his friend was probably in the shower and walked on in. It was eeriely quiet in Mike's house. He walked down the hallway.
"Mike?" he called. His eyes caught sight of a red smear on the doorframe of he and Anna's room. He gasped.
"Mike!" he yelled loudly, beating on the door to Maineka's room. "Mike, damnit!"he screamed. He lifted his foot up and kicked in the door. He saw Mike laying on the floor on his side. "Mike!" Chester fell down beside him on his knees. "Mike, god damnit, wake up!" He rolled Mike onto his back. Chester listened for a heartbeat. It was faint. He heard Mike take a small breath and looked at him. Mike's eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at Chester with his blood-covered face. Chester sighed.
"You're alive." Mike sighed. There was still SOMEONE who cared.
The way you make me feel
Waking up to you never felt so real...
I'm so tired of trying to fight this
I'm asleep and all I dream of
Is waking to you
Mike Shinoda rolled over in bed. He'd awoke from that horrible dream again. Sweat covered his body. The words lingered in his mind again. "She was coming back, Mike." He shook the words from his head. He stood up and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. The cool liquid burned his throat. He'd been screaming out again. He walked into the living room and stared at a picture on the fireplace mantel. It was a picture of Anna and Maineka. They were laughing on a swing at the park. Mike crushed his eyes shut, and his hand, which was resting on the limestone mantel beside the picture, balled into a fist. He hung his head, breathing out heavily, a tear rolling off the end of his nose. He sniffed. The day before, he'd considered removing the picture from this spot. Maybe then the pain wouldn't be so strong everytime he glanced at it. He cursed himself. He couldn't just throw Anna away.
Tell me that you will listen
Your touch is what I'm missing
And the more I hide I realize I'm slowly losing you
He reluctantly pulled himself away from that spot and walked toward the bathroom. He hadn't been out of the house since that catastrophic day. His world had shatted that day. Since then, he hadn't found much reason to get out of bed in the morning. It was the scent of Anna on his pillow that made him roll out of the blankets.
Comatose
I'll never wake up without an overdose of you
Mike made himself get into the shower. He turned on the water as hot as it could go without burning blisters onto his back. It didn't matter if it did. He wouldn't be able to feel it. His body had long since lost all sensation. He just didn't want to face the awkward questions that would arise when Chester saw them when he stopped by. He put his hands on the far wall and hung his head, letting the water engulf his face, and the shower pound his back. He stood that way for a while, open mouthed, his eyes closed, letting the water envelope his face. He finally lifted his head, and ran a hand down his face, wiping away the water from his eyes. He turned off the shower, and ripped back the shower curtain. His towel was laying on the toilet. He picked it up and dried himself off, and put on a pair of athletic shorts. He took out his razor and extra blades from the medicine cabinet to shave his face. He paused...
I hate living without you
Dead wrong to ever doubt you
But my demons lay in waiting
Tempting me away
He stood and stared in the mirror for a long time. He hated looking at himself, but it was the only way that he could see the live features of his daughter. He stared into his own brown eyes, hearing in his mind the laughter of 3-year-old Maineka. He remembered the last time he'd seen her. He remembered the sadness that had been in those eyes as she waved over her mother's shoulder and muttered, "Bye, Daddy." He looked at his nose. He remembered the way that Maineka's tiny, but identical nose got chapped the year before from a heavy cold. He sighed. And he glanced on his mouth. He remembered the smile that used to play on his daughter's lips whenever she was doing something that she knew she shouldn't be. It was the same smile that had graced Mike's face when he held her the day she was born. He loved her so much...
Oh how I adore you
Oh how I thirst for you
Oh how I need you
He closed his eyes and the scene plaed out in front of him again. The worrying. The heartache. The pain. The phone call...
"She was coming back, Mike. She was coming home to you..."
Mike fell against the bathroom cabinet, his knees buckling. His body slid down the stone and wood of the cabinet. He tried to hold onto the sink for support, but he didn't have the strength. He was crushing something in his right hand. He looked down at his palm and realized he was holding one of th extra blades for his razor. He stared at the puncture wounds that it had made in his white palm. He stared for a long time...
Comatose
I'll never wake up without an overdose of you
He lifted it delicately with the fingers of his left hand. He closed his eyes and ran the metal across his right forearm. He opened his eyes and gasped.
Breathing life
Waking up
My eyes
Open up
As he made his movements, the memories and visions came flooding back to him.
"She was coming back, Mike. She was coming home to you. It was a hit and run." He dug the metal farther into his skin, closing his eyes tightly, squeezing tears out. "They said it was instant. She didn't hurt..."
I don't wanna live
I don't wanna breathe
'les I feel you next to me
You take the pain I feel
Waking up to you never felt so real
"...nor did Maineka." He shoved the razor as far as he could get it into his arm. After pulling it out, he made himself stand up. He walked from the bathroom, through he and Anna's bedroom. He turned the corner letting his hand rest on the doorframe for a moment. It was smeared with crimson. He walked across the hallway, through the white door that hadn't been opened since that day, and into his baby's bedroom. He was staining his daughter's carpet with his crimson rapture.
I don't wanna sleep
I don't wanna dream
'cause my dreams don't comfort me
The way you make me feel
Waking up to you never felt so real
He walked toward her book case. DRIP. Anna drove over the bridge, singing happily with Maineka. She was going home to Mike. She would hold him in her arms again. DRIP. Mike fell back against the wall. DRIP. A bright light shone into her windshield and before she could react conciously, her hands were already making the SUV swerve on the icy road. She did her best to lean back and hold Maineka into her car seat. DRIP. Mike held a hand to his face, crying loudly. DRIP. The crunching sound that issued from the front of the car old Anna that she wasn't going to make it. She only prayed that Mike knew how much she loved him and how sorry she was. DRIP. Mike threw his head back into the wall, gasping between cries. DRIP. Dispatchers pulled a woman from a crushed SUV just off of the bridge. They cried when they got into the back seat...
~*~
When Chester didn't get an answer from the front door at Mike's house, he decided that his friend was probably in the shower and walked on in. It was eeriely quiet in Mike's house. He walked down the hallway.
"Mike?" he called. His eyes caught sight of a red smear on the doorframe of he and Anna's room. He gasped.
"Mike!" he yelled loudly, beating on the door to Maineka's room. "Mike, damnit!"he screamed. He lifted his foot up and kicked in the door. He saw Mike laying on the floor on his side. "Mike!" Chester fell down beside him on his knees. "Mike, god damnit, wake up!" He rolled Mike onto his back. Chester listened for a heartbeat. It was faint. He heard Mike take a small breath and looked at him. Mike's eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at Chester with his blood-covered face. Chester sighed.
"You're alive." Mike sighed. There was still SOMEONE who cared.
The way you make me feel
Waking up to you never felt so real...
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