Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Throwing Stones At A Glass Moon
SIXTEEN
Plead The Fifth
July 1, 2006
With the far side of the bed growing cold with each minute it continued to be unoccupied, Lindsey woke with her legs tangled in the comforter. Noting her solitude, she sunk back into the sheet only long enough to become overwhelmed with the eminent feeling of a day gone wrong. Tossing the blanket away from her body and onto the floor, Lindsey caught her balance after the split second that had caught her off guard.
The television hummed from the living room. The comfort of knowing she wasn’t truly alone softened the warning her guitar glared at her with. It was days like this she would spend silently in the backseat of her car, with the comfort of alcohol on her breath. If only she wasn’t trying so hard to be a decent person.
Opening the bedroom door with a quick snap, the sight of the wrong man sitting in front of the TV stole the breath straight from her chest. With nothing but a gasp, she sat opposite of him, immediately feeling a downward spiral in her gut. Digging her fingernails deeply into her palms, Lindsey spoke through her teeth.
“Why are you here?”
Joe, who had been asked by Andy to stay with Lindsey until he returned, returned her glare with a nervous gulp. Perched on a chair near the kitchen, Lindsey sat with her legs curled up to her chest. While part of her looked as betrayed by fear as Joe’s darting gaze, her eyes pierced him like a hawk stalking its prey.
“Why are you here?” Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke. She couldn’t stop her body from trembling. Days like today were the reasons she was so hard to place in foster homes, days like today were the reasons she had been sent to so many therapists. And despite the multiple prescriptions, the unruly “tantrums”, the labels they gave her “illness”, and the grave “concern” for her safety, it was only days like today, when she knew that she had no control, that Lindsey ever truly felt alive.
“Why?” Her voice was nothing above a whisper now. Her mouth hung open for the sole reason that the instinct to pick up her jaw had left her.
“Andy will be back soon,” Joe told her, unsure of how else to communicate that he was in no way actually there to comfort her. He hardly understood how Andy managed it most days. The girl was seriously unhinged.
Lindsey rubbed her palms roughly on her face, trying to scrape out the feeling of disaster. But all that resulted was a trembling behind her eyes, a weakness in her joints. She was certainly approaching nothing sort of catastrophe.
Placing his half empty cereal bowl on the table, and switching off the nondescript television show, Joe adjusted his placement on the couch. With his new vantage point, he’d have an extra half-second to duck if Lindsey decided to suddenly lunge at him. Currently, no event he could predict seemed too outlandish for her to actually carry out.
“He just ran a few errands,” Joe explained, more fearful of getting trapped into a staring contest to accompany the intense silence, “He said he would have woken you up, but thought you could use your beauty sleep.”
“He said that?” Lindsey snapped in reply. As she jerked her head away from Joe’s gaze in fear he’d see her leaving her body.
“Probably not in so many words,” He stuttered. Alarm caused his skin to warm as Lindsey’s immobility quickly turned into an abrupt pacing.
Joe’s voice became distant as Lindsey watched events unfold from near ceiling. Instead, she heard the ramblings of her own figure as it curtly screamed at Joe, “STOP!” And while Joe had done nothing to warrant the obscenities that followed, Lindsey was no longer involved in her own actions. The outbursts, that had hindered so many of her previous days, once again ruled her body.
Throwing any object in her path onto the tiled floor of the kitchen, Lindsey only paused when she caught her reflection in the scissors that had been dormant in the drawer besides the refrigerator. Observing everything but her eyes in the shiny likeness, she traced a nail across her throat.
“Maybe…um…” Joe’s attempt to remedy whatever exactly it was that he had done wrong was curtailed as soon as she bared the blades and her teeth too closely for comfort. He sent hopeful glances repeatedly at the front door for a sign of Andy’s return.
The shriek that erupted from the bathroom, which Lindsey had haphazardly locked behind her made his stomach to drop. Surely, their lifeless bodies would be left leaving stains on the hardwood floors of the apartment when its true residents returned.
“Lindsey!” He roared beating the door with his fists at the first crisp sound of scraping metal.
“Why do you let me?” She sobbed at the empty mirror she saw in front of her. The rest of the words she strung together were incomprehensible.
Willing to plead with her no more, Joe pooled all of his strength into his right shoulder before taken a few steps back in preparation. With all of the speed he could muster, he drove himself into the door breaking the latch completely off the door.
Startled, Lindsey jerked the scissors from where they had been perched just a few inches from her scalp amidst her impromptu makeover. With fingers caught in the ring shaped handle, she inadvertently brought the blade down on her cheekbone in an attempt to be caught without tears.
The first spots of blood splashed onto the rim of the sink where strands of hair already claimed residence. Joe’s first instinct was to either embrace her, or restrain her (either way would keep her from doing anymore harm). She shrieked at his touch flailing her limbs until she connected with his face. Recoiling as her blow stung below his eye, Joe could only watch as she collapsed onto the floor.
When Andy entered the apartment a mere hour later, burden with only a few grocery bags, Patrick, Pete, and Joe all sat somberly on the couch. None turned to look at him, each too exhausted from individually trying to calm the hysterics still erupting from within the bathroom walls.
Andy shook his head, too disgusted with his friends’ attempts to conjure up anything more insulting. Dropping his bag near the couch, he hurried across the space to find Lindsey still crumpled on the tile floor amidst scattered locks of hair and smeared half-dried blood spatters. He fell to his knees, taking her into his arms.
With one deep breath, she finally collected herself from the corners of the room and collapsed into his arms. Her sobs became quieter and within minutes disappeared all together. While she knew the worst was over, she refused to open her eyes for the sole reason of facing the aftermath.
Andy didn’t mutter one question, he didn’t even speak until she had regained enough strength to stand up without using his shoulder as a crutch. Three pairs of eyes still peered into the bathroom with hopes of catching a glimpse of the current situation. Andy blocked her view of them. He couldn’t risk her relapsing at the idea of being some sort of afternoon entertainment.
“We’re leaving,” He whispered in her ear.
She gulped, and nodded following him into the bedroom only to watch as he threw clothes for both of them into the same suitcase. Seeing her shirts tangled into his jeans seemed to echo the promise he had made to her just the day before.
“I’m not going anywhere without you.” Didn’t need to be repeated aloud as they left his band mates wide-eyed and wondering on the couches of the living room.
Plead The Fifth
July 1, 2006
With the far side of the bed growing cold with each minute it continued to be unoccupied, Lindsey woke with her legs tangled in the comforter. Noting her solitude, she sunk back into the sheet only long enough to become overwhelmed with the eminent feeling of a day gone wrong. Tossing the blanket away from her body and onto the floor, Lindsey caught her balance after the split second that had caught her off guard.
The television hummed from the living room. The comfort of knowing she wasn’t truly alone softened the warning her guitar glared at her with. It was days like this she would spend silently in the backseat of her car, with the comfort of alcohol on her breath. If only she wasn’t trying so hard to be a decent person.
Opening the bedroom door with a quick snap, the sight of the wrong man sitting in front of the TV stole the breath straight from her chest. With nothing but a gasp, she sat opposite of him, immediately feeling a downward spiral in her gut. Digging her fingernails deeply into her palms, Lindsey spoke through her teeth.
“Why are you here?”
Joe, who had been asked by Andy to stay with Lindsey until he returned, returned her glare with a nervous gulp. Perched on a chair near the kitchen, Lindsey sat with her legs curled up to her chest. While part of her looked as betrayed by fear as Joe’s darting gaze, her eyes pierced him like a hawk stalking its prey.
“Why are you here?” Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke. She couldn’t stop her body from trembling. Days like today were the reasons she was so hard to place in foster homes, days like today were the reasons she had been sent to so many therapists. And despite the multiple prescriptions, the unruly “tantrums”, the labels they gave her “illness”, and the grave “concern” for her safety, it was only days like today, when she knew that she had no control, that Lindsey ever truly felt alive.
“Why?” Her voice was nothing above a whisper now. Her mouth hung open for the sole reason that the instinct to pick up her jaw had left her.
“Andy will be back soon,” Joe told her, unsure of how else to communicate that he was in no way actually there to comfort her. He hardly understood how Andy managed it most days. The girl was seriously unhinged.
Lindsey rubbed her palms roughly on her face, trying to scrape out the feeling of disaster. But all that resulted was a trembling behind her eyes, a weakness in her joints. She was certainly approaching nothing sort of catastrophe.
Placing his half empty cereal bowl on the table, and switching off the nondescript television show, Joe adjusted his placement on the couch. With his new vantage point, he’d have an extra half-second to duck if Lindsey decided to suddenly lunge at him. Currently, no event he could predict seemed too outlandish for her to actually carry out.
“He just ran a few errands,” Joe explained, more fearful of getting trapped into a staring contest to accompany the intense silence, “He said he would have woken you up, but thought you could use your beauty sleep.”
“He said that?” Lindsey snapped in reply. As she jerked her head away from Joe’s gaze in fear he’d see her leaving her body.
“Probably not in so many words,” He stuttered. Alarm caused his skin to warm as Lindsey’s immobility quickly turned into an abrupt pacing.
Joe’s voice became distant as Lindsey watched events unfold from near ceiling. Instead, she heard the ramblings of her own figure as it curtly screamed at Joe, “STOP!” And while Joe had done nothing to warrant the obscenities that followed, Lindsey was no longer involved in her own actions. The outbursts, that had hindered so many of her previous days, once again ruled her body.
Throwing any object in her path onto the tiled floor of the kitchen, Lindsey only paused when she caught her reflection in the scissors that had been dormant in the drawer besides the refrigerator. Observing everything but her eyes in the shiny likeness, she traced a nail across her throat.
“Maybe…um…” Joe’s attempt to remedy whatever exactly it was that he had done wrong was curtailed as soon as she bared the blades and her teeth too closely for comfort. He sent hopeful glances repeatedly at the front door for a sign of Andy’s return.
The shriek that erupted from the bathroom, which Lindsey had haphazardly locked behind her made his stomach to drop. Surely, their lifeless bodies would be left leaving stains on the hardwood floors of the apartment when its true residents returned.
“Lindsey!” He roared beating the door with his fists at the first crisp sound of scraping metal.
“Why do you let me?” She sobbed at the empty mirror she saw in front of her. The rest of the words she strung together were incomprehensible.
Willing to plead with her no more, Joe pooled all of his strength into his right shoulder before taken a few steps back in preparation. With all of the speed he could muster, he drove himself into the door breaking the latch completely off the door.
Startled, Lindsey jerked the scissors from where they had been perched just a few inches from her scalp amidst her impromptu makeover. With fingers caught in the ring shaped handle, she inadvertently brought the blade down on her cheekbone in an attempt to be caught without tears.
The first spots of blood splashed onto the rim of the sink where strands of hair already claimed residence. Joe’s first instinct was to either embrace her, or restrain her (either way would keep her from doing anymore harm). She shrieked at his touch flailing her limbs until she connected with his face. Recoiling as her blow stung below his eye, Joe could only watch as she collapsed onto the floor.
When Andy entered the apartment a mere hour later, burden with only a few grocery bags, Patrick, Pete, and Joe all sat somberly on the couch. None turned to look at him, each too exhausted from individually trying to calm the hysterics still erupting from within the bathroom walls.
Andy shook his head, too disgusted with his friends’ attempts to conjure up anything more insulting. Dropping his bag near the couch, he hurried across the space to find Lindsey still crumpled on the tile floor amidst scattered locks of hair and smeared half-dried blood spatters. He fell to his knees, taking her into his arms.
With one deep breath, she finally collected herself from the corners of the room and collapsed into his arms. Her sobs became quieter and within minutes disappeared all together. While she knew the worst was over, she refused to open her eyes for the sole reason of facing the aftermath.
Andy didn’t mutter one question, he didn’t even speak until she had regained enough strength to stand up without using his shoulder as a crutch. Three pairs of eyes still peered into the bathroom with hopes of catching a glimpse of the current situation. Andy blocked her view of them. He couldn’t risk her relapsing at the idea of being some sort of afternoon entertainment.
“We’re leaving,” He whispered in her ear.
She gulped, and nodded following him into the bedroom only to watch as he threw clothes for both of them into the same suitcase. Seeing her shirts tangled into his jeans seemed to echo the promise he had made to her just the day before.
“I’m not going anywhere without you.” Didn’t need to be repeated aloud as they left his band mates wide-eyed and wondering on the couches of the living room.
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