Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Way Down
11 reviewsYou wore that dress that night. The one I loved. The one your husband hated. Gerard's point of view. Suicide is in this.
4Moving
I own nothing. That means I don’t own My Chemical Romance. This is just based on one of their songs. Which I don’t own either. This is all fiction. Meaning it NEVER happened.
Maybe you should listen to Cemetery Drive while reading this. Because it’s pretty much based on that song.
She wore that dress that night. The black dress, I always loved it. I think that’s why she always wore it. But there was someone who didn’t like it. Her husband. There was only one reason why he absolutely hated it. It’s because I treasured it. It fits you perfectly. Well it used to. When you were alive. When we were both alive. When we would sit in each other’s arms all night long, not caring about the world around us.
On the last night together you wore that black dress again. We walked all the way to my place; I couldn’t manage to pay for a car at the time. I can’t buy one now either. Anyway, we were at my apartment at the time. We just sat there talking about crap that didn’t even matter. I’m pretty sure we were both extremely drunk that night. It’s not like it mattered anyway. We made love to each other for the last time. I cherished the moments we spent together, especially on the last night together.
After hours of just spending time with you, I knew what was coming next. You wanted to go where we always went. The cemetery. We both loved it there. It was so peaceful. We weren’t afraid of anything there. You can’t be scared of dead people. They can’t hurt you. It’s the breathing obnoxious humans you have to look out for. We were both dressed in black. You were in that amazing dress again. You looked so beautiful in the moonlight. Even though it was at night, I could see you perfectly. We were holding hands. Walking down the street together. We came to the cemetery, giggling away. We still hadn’t sobered up. We entered the land of the dead. No one else was there but us. And the hundreds of people that had stopped breathing, laughing, crying. All because of death.
We sat down at the usual spot. We were outside the mausoleum door. Drinking alcohol, yet again. I couldn’t help but stare to you for a good 20 minutes. You hadn’t realised my eyes were one you. You must have drunk a lot that night. You were so oblivious to almost everything that night. I couldn’t help but chuckle at your innocence; too bad someone had to ruin it. Both our thoughts were ruined by the sound of sirens. You got up quickly, and I giggled as you tripped over a bit, but you started regaining your balance shortly after. I reached out and grabbed your hand as we slowly walked out of our sanctuary. I followed you that night. Even though we were going back to my place, you loved to be in control. I wasn’t going complain.
We finally made it to our place. We were stumbling way too much. So it wasn’t our fault we took so long. We walked up the stairs to get to my apartment. Tripping over almost every stair we came across. We opened the door to where I lived, and we automatically fell to the floor as we entered. Laughing even more you stood up and stumbled into the bathroom. I slowly got up and followed you. You were sitting against the wall with a razor blade in your hand. I knew what was coming next.
“I’ll be…right back.” I said. It was so hard to talk right now. The alcohol was really kicking in. I staggered into my bedroom. Taking slow steps. My death was coming quickly. Our deaths were coming quickly. I rummaged through a few drawers before I found it. The gun. I wasn’t saving it for anything. But I guess tonight made me realise that this how our lives would end. Fate had led us to this. I walked back into the bathroom, to find you patiently sitting in the same position. That shiny razor blade still in your hands. You patted the spot next to you, and I gratefully slid down the wall and sat next to you. You looked into my eyes, almost as if you were searching for something. I think you were. Love is what you wanted right now. Compassion, it’s what you always wanted. Someone who was going to be there for you. I was that person. Your husband wasn’t. I never understood why you stayed with him. I knew perfectly well what he put you through.
“You really want to do this?” I asked you. I already knew the answer. I just wanted some reassurance.
You replied with a quick nod, that was a mistake. I guess we forgot about all the alcohol we had been drinking. You picked up the gun I had left on the cold tiled floor. “One bullet, Gerard.” You told me. “One bullet. And it’s all over.” You said as you placed the gun to your head. “But I don’t wanna go like that.” You continued. I knew you wanted to shed some blood that night. Not having your insides thrown around the place. I took the gun from your hand and kissed your lips. I don’t know how long it lasted. But it was spectacular. I left your lips as you picked up the razor blade. I wish I hadn’t had kissed you. Because it was the collision of your kiss. It made this so hard. “I wanna die like this.”
“You’re right.” I said. “I wanna blow my brain against the ceiling.”
You ran the razor blade across both wrists. I watched as the blood slowly poured out of your body and onto my once clean floor. You looked up at me and gave me a sadistic smile. “I love you. Until the end, Gerard.” You said, taking deep breathes now.
“I love you too.” I said kissing your forehead. “But death is calling us. We’re leaving this place forever…” I said watching as you closed your eyes. This may sound disgusting. But, you never looked more beautiful to me. Covered in blood. Wearing the most beautiful dress, which was now covered in blood.
“Just like a hail of bullets…” You whispered. I laughed at how some of my songs affected you. Those were your last words. Your last breath was wasted on me. You were still against the wall, so I decided to bring yo to my bedroom. I picked you up and walked there. I lay you down on my bed. I kissed you softly on the lips. They were cold as ice. Your skin was so pale. Besides the red blood dripping down you wrists.
I placed the gun to the side of my head. I was standing right beside the bed, right next to you. I decided to sit down next to you, the gun still to me head. If you heard my last words, you would have laughed. That crazy, sadistic laugh. The one that always made me smile. I took your hand in mind, the other one still clutching the gun what would be responsible for my death.
“Way down.” I said as I pulled the trigger and fell gracefully onto your body, still embracing your hand.
Review maybe?
Maybe you should listen to Cemetery Drive while reading this. Because it’s pretty much based on that song.
She wore that dress that night. The black dress, I always loved it. I think that’s why she always wore it. But there was someone who didn’t like it. Her husband. There was only one reason why he absolutely hated it. It’s because I treasured it. It fits you perfectly. Well it used to. When you were alive. When we were both alive. When we would sit in each other’s arms all night long, not caring about the world around us.
On the last night together you wore that black dress again. We walked all the way to my place; I couldn’t manage to pay for a car at the time. I can’t buy one now either. Anyway, we were at my apartment at the time. We just sat there talking about crap that didn’t even matter. I’m pretty sure we were both extremely drunk that night. It’s not like it mattered anyway. We made love to each other for the last time. I cherished the moments we spent together, especially on the last night together.
After hours of just spending time with you, I knew what was coming next. You wanted to go where we always went. The cemetery. We both loved it there. It was so peaceful. We weren’t afraid of anything there. You can’t be scared of dead people. They can’t hurt you. It’s the breathing obnoxious humans you have to look out for. We were both dressed in black. You were in that amazing dress again. You looked so beautiful in the moonlight. Even though it was at night, I could see you perfectly. We were holding hands. Walking down the street together. We came to the cemetery, giggling away. We still hadn’t sobered up. We entered the land of the dead. No one else was there but us. And the hundreds of people that had stopped breathing, laughing, crying. All because of death.
We sat down at the usual spot. We were outside the mausoleum door. Drinking alcohol, yet again. I couldn’t help but stare to you for a good 20 minutes. You hadn’t realised my eyes were one you. You must have drunk a lot that night. You were so oblivious to almost everything that night. I couldn’t help but chuckle at your innocence; too bad someone had to ruin it. Both our thoughts were ruined by the sound of sirens. You got up quickly, and I giggled as you tripped over a bit, but you started regaining your balance shortly after. I reached out and grabbed your hand as we slowly walked out of our sanctuary. I followed you that night. Even though we were going back to my place, you loved to be in control. I wasn’t going complain.
We finally made it to our place. We were stumbling way too much. So it wasn’t our fault we took so long. We walked up the stairs to get to my apartment. Tripping over almost every stair we came across. We opened the door to where I lived, and we automatically fell to the floor as we entered. Laughing even more you stood up and stumbled into the bathroom. I slowly got up and followed you. You were sitting against the wall with a razor blade in your hand. I knew what was coming next.
“I’ll be…right back.” I said. It was so hard to talk right now. The alcohol was really kicking in. I staggered into my bedroom. Taking slow steps. My death was coming quickly. Our deaths were coming quickly. I rummaged through a few drawers before I found it. The gun. I wasn’t saving it for anything. But I guess tonight made me realise that this how our lives would end. Fate had led us to this. I walked back into the bathroom, to find you patiently sitting in the same position. That shiny razor blade still in your hands. You patted the spot next to you, and I gratefully slid down the wall and sat next to you. You looked into my eyes, almost as if you were searching for something. I think you were. Love is what you wanted right now. Compassion, it’s what you always wanted. Someone who was going to be there for you. I was that person. Your husband wasn’t. I never understood why you stayed with him. I knew perfectly well what he put you through.
“You really want to do this?” I asked you. I already knew the answer. I just wanted some reassurance.
You replied with a quick nod, that was a mistake. I guess we forgot about all the alcohol we had been drinking. You picked up the gun I had left on the cold tiled floor. “One bullet, Gerard.” You told me. “One bullet. And it’s all over.” You said as you placed the gun to your head. “But I don’t wanna go like that.” You continued. I knew you wanted to shed some blood that night. Not having your insides thrown around the place. I took the gun from your hand and kissed your lips. I don’t know how long it lasted. But it was spectacular. I left your lips as you picked up the razor blade. I wish I hadn’t had kissed you. Because it was the collision of your kiss. It made this so hard. “I wanna die like this.”
“You’re right.” I said. “I wanna blow my brain against the ceiling.”
You ran the razor blade across both wrists. I watched as the blood slowly poured out of your body and onto my once clean floor. You looked up at me and gave me a sadistic smile. “I love you. Until the end, Gerard.” You said, taking deep breathes now.
“I love you too.” I said kissing your forehead. “But death is calling us. We’re leaving this place forever…” I said watching as you closed your eyes. This may sound disgusting. But, you never looked more beautiful to me. Covered in blood. Wearing the most beautiful dress, which was now covered in blood.
“Just like a hail of bullets…” You whispered. I laughed at how some of my songs affected you. Those were your last words. Your last breath was wasted on me. You were still against the wall, so I decided to bring yo to my bedroom. I picked you up and walked there. I lay you down on my bed. I kissed you softly on the lips. They were cold as ice. Your skin was so pale. Besides the red blood dripping down you wrists.
I placed the gun to the side of my head. I was standing right beside the bed, right next to you. I decided to sit down next to you, the gun still to me head. If you heard my last words, you would have laughed. That crazy, sadistic laugh. The one that always made me smile. I took your hand in mind, the other one still clutching the gun what would be responsible for my death.
“Way down.” I said as I pulled the trigger and fell gracefully onto your body, still embracing your hand.
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