Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Autumn Warrior
The first time I met any of them was at the library. I had just walked in to return some books and possibly search for some new ones, when I heard him cursing at one of the computers. It seemed he couldn’t get the desktop to open. Leaning down as I walked past I told him to hit the space bar a few times and then it would open. Now, before I go on with my story I must tell you a little about myself, and okay, a little about my sister. My name is Myk Roberts, I’m 24 and I can be a bit slow at times, I don‘t get jokes very often. My family owns a large mansion on the outskirts of town; we rent it out to a lot of famous people who want to get away from everything now and then. With a town that’s 70% old people and 10% teens and kids under 18 and 20% people over 25, so there are not a lot of people rushing to mob the stars we get here. I’ve been told people like me because most of the time, to the outside world, I don’t show that I have feelings, I don’t let people see how much I am hurting sometimes. But I do have feelings, I’m just one of those people who like to bottle them up for long periods of time until you just can’t take it anymore and you vent your temper on some poor nurse at the Dr. office when she asks you if it hurts to eat with your lip ring in and you haven’t slept in nearly 36 hours, so your bitchy anyway. But yeah, I like to play the roll of the pretty girl who has poured way to much hair dye on her head and it has eaten her brain cells. How’s that line go? Ohh yes, “Don’t ask me, I’m to pretty to know stuff.”
But back to my story. I knew who he was within the single look I had of him when I was at the desk talking to the overly pregnant librarian. Bob Bryar. His eyes were this amazing shade of blue, brighter then the sky and deeper then the ocean. He had this way of always looking angry, even when he wasn’t, and he was a bit on the chubby side, but everyone is now a days. I knew who he was because he was a member of one of my favorite bands. My chemical romance. Gimmie a second while I swoon… Okay, I’m done now. In the back of my head I wondered what he would be doing on a library computer, but just pushed that thought away as I went and searched around the rather nice sized library for anything that called out to me and while I was bouncing around to my mp3, humming along with The RJA’s “Twenty hour drive” I was tapped on the shoulder. With a quick jump I spun around and pulled off my head phones and looked into the blue eyes that I was so poetic about a moment ago and the owner walked past me and called out a thank you. Standing stone still I took a deep breath and squealed quietly to myself.
It had just tuned October and the leaves on the many trees on either side of the road had begun to turn a glorious shade of orange and a few started to fall to the ground following the light breeze that was blowing along with my car. I had just arrived at my house when I noticed what seemed to be a tour buss pulling down the long drive way behind me. Scratching the back of my neck I sighed, it looked like we had guests again. Grabbing my shit out of the backseat I quickly made my way into the entrance and threw myself down on the wooden floor, making short work of pulling off my skechers and dropping them into a pile of shoes by the double doors. Standing back up quickly I got a bit of a head rush and almost fell over only to be caught half way to the floor and lifted back up. For some reason the touch of this person sent an icy chill up my spine. Turning around I looked right into a pair of blue eyes I had just seen not to long ago.
“Well hello again.” Smiling slightly I moved away from him and shifted from one bare foot to the other. “Umm can I help you at all?” I asked as I bent over the retrieve the messenger bag I had dropped by the door. Smoothing a hand down my loose hip hugger jeans and trying to straighten the hem of my t-shirt with one hand I watched him fumble for a slip of paper in his pocket. “I was told I needed to speak to a Mike Roberts…” Moving closer to him I peeked over his arm at the name scrawled in some horrible type of handwriting. And there was my name, but spelt wrong. Holding back a laugh I stepped away from him. “Are there any more people that you that will be staying here?”
He gave me a skeptical look and answered me slowly. “Yes, 6 of us…” he glanced behind himself to see if anyone else was going to get out of the bus. After a few seconds I peeked around him to meet his eyes and smiled sweetly, standing up straight and holding his eyes with mine. “Are you Mike?” he asked me when it seemed like I wasn’t going to say anything. “Yes and no.” Reaching out I took the paper from his hand and pulled out a pencil from my bag and wrote my name correctly down. “It’s said the same, just spelt different.” Shrugging my bag higher up on my shoulder I took a step away from him. “Follow me and I’ll get you some room keys.” He followed me all the way to a large office that my mother uses when she was home. Right now, it was just me living in the house, my sister was off at collage and mom was away on business. It was mom who first thought about renting out rooms, that it would be good for getting some extra money, and it had been going well for about 4 years. A few friends had tendencies of crashing in the rooms, but I was okay with that, the house got a little creepy when you’re alone. Looking in the date book for the guest’s I found MCR written in bold letters, and saw that it said 5 rooms where booked, so pulling out 5 keys and a map of the floors, no, the house isn’t nearly big enough to actually need a “you are here” map, but it helped people find their way around without having to ask me. Laying the map flat I handed him the keys. “You can go anywhere in the house that doesn’t have a locked door. The kitchen is fully stocked and I can get you anything else you might want.” Folding up the map I handed it to him and threw myself down in the large overstuffed velvet chair behind the desk.
Watching him leave I stood quickly and made a mad dash for the kitchen, startling one of the girls that acted as a maid as I dashed through a small hallway off of the study. Pulling open the cellar door I went so fast down the narrow stairs that I tripped and slammed into a large iron door. Pushing myself away I took a deep breath and pulled on the door’s handle when I found that it was still locked I breathed a sigh of relief. Turning around I slid my back down the cool metal and pulled my knees to my chest. This would be the first time I was left alone with someone other then friends in the manor, and I didn‘t know if I was going to be able to handle it. I had just rested my head on my knees when something threw itself against the iron door, shaking it with a force that shook the hinges and sounded like a thunder clap in my ears.
Throwing myself away from the door, heart thumping rapidly in my chest I turned and beat my fist on it. “Shut up in there!” and few more hits. “You’re not getting out again! You hear me in there?!” I yelled with one more strike against the metal and it finally settled down. Damn, I looked down at my hand and saw that I had cut it on one of the many bolts holding the door together. Grumbling I climbed the stairs and looked back down toward the door that shined silver in the light from the kitchen, the door had visibly been pushed out a small amount. It had never hit the door this hard before, with that last thought I threw the cellar door shut and locked it tightly with the one of the keys that hung around my neck.
Taking a deep breath I trudged up the old servant’s staircase to the fourth floor and my privet rooms, trying no to think about what would happen if the cellar door opened and wondering how much sleep I could get before my friend Nixa to come over to make dinner for me like she did most nights.
But back to my story. I knew who he was within the single look I had of him when I was at the desk talking to the overly pregnant librarian. Bob Bryar. His eyes were this amazing shade of blue, brighter then the sky and deeper then the ocean. He had this way of always looking angry, even when he wasn’t, and he was a bit on the chubby side, but everyone is now a days. I knew who he was because he was a member of one of my favorite bands. My chemical romance. Gimmie a second while I swoon… Okay, I’m done now. In the back of my head I wondered what he would be doing on a library computer, but just pushed that thought away as I went and searched around the rather nice sized library for anything that called out to me and while I was bouncing around to my mp3, humming along with The RJA’s “Twenty hour drive” I was tapped on the shoulder. With a quick jump I spun around and pulled off my head phones and looked into the blue eyes that I was so poetic about a moment ago and the owner walked past me and called out a thank you. Standing stone still I took a deep breath and squealed quietly to myself.
It had just tuned October and the leaves on the many trees on either side of the road had begun to turn a glorious shade of orange and a few started to fall to the ground following the light breeze that was blowing along with my car. I had just arrived at my house when I noticed what seemed to be a tour buss pulling down the long drive way behind me. Scratching the back of my neck I sighed, it looked like we had guests again. Grabbing my shit out of the backseat I quickly made my way into the entrance and threw myself down on the wooden floor, making short work of pulling off my skechers and dropping them into a pile of shoes by the double doors. Standing back up quickly I got a bit of a head rush and almost fell over only to be caught half way to the floor and lifted back up. For some reason the touch of this person sent an icy chill up my spine. Turning around I looked right into a pair of blue eyes I had just seen not to long ago.
“Well hello again.” Smiling slightly I moved away from him and shifted from one bare foot to the other. “Umm can I help you at all?” I asked as I bent over the retrieve the messenger bag I had dropped by the door. Smoothing a hand down my loose hip hugger jeans and trying to straighten the hem of my t-shirt with one hand I watched him fumble for a slip of paper in his pocket. “I was told I needed to speak to a Mike Roberts…” Moving closer to him I peeked over his arm at the name scrawled in some horrible type of handwriting. And there was my name, but spelt wrong. Holding back a laugh I stepped away from him. “Are there any more people that you that will be staying here?”
He gave me a skeptical look and answered me slowly. “Yes, 6 of us…” he glanced behind himself to see if anyone else was going to get out of the bus. After a few seconds I peeked around him to meet his eyes and smiled sweetly, standing up straight and holding his eyes with mine. “Are you Mike?” he asked me when it seemed like I wasn’t going to say anything. “Yes and no.” Reaching out I took the paper from his hand and pulled out a pencil from my bag and wrote my name correctly down. “It’s said the same, just spelt different.” Shrugging my bag higher up on my shoulder I took a step away from him. “Follow me and I’ll get you some room keys.” He followed me all the way to a large office that my mother uses when she was home. Right now, it was just me living in the house, my sister was off at collage and mom was away on business. It was mom who first thought about renting out rooms, that it would be good for getting some extra money, and it had been going well for about 4 years. A few friends had tendencies of crashing in the rooms, but I was okay with that, the house got a little creepy when you’re alone. Looking in the date book for the guest’s I found MCR written in bold letters, and saw that it said 5 rooms where booked, so pulling out 5 keys and a map of the floors, no, the house isn’t nearly big enough to actually need a “you are here” map, but it helped people find their way around without having to ask me. Laying the map flat I handed him the keys. “You can go anywhere in the house that doesn’t have a locked door. The kitchen is fully stocked and I can get you anything else you might want.” Folding up the map I handed it to him and threw myself down in the large overstuffed velvet chair behind the desk.
Watching him leave I stood quickly and made a mad dash for the kitchen, startling one of the girls that acted as a maid as I dashed through a small hallway off of the study. Pulling open the cellar door I went so fast down the narrow stairs that I tripped and slammed into a large iron door. Pushing myself away I took a deep breath and pulled on the door’s handle when I found that it was still locked I breathed a sigh of relief. Turning around I slid my back down the cool metal and pulled my knees to my chest. This would be the first time I was left alone with someone other then friends in the manor, and I didn‘t know if I was going to be able to handle it. I had just rested my head on my knees when something threw itself against the iron door, shaking it with a force that shook the hinges and sounded like a thunder clap in my ears.
Throwing myself away from the door, heart thumping rapidly in my chest I turned and beat my fist on it. “Shut up in there!” and few more hits. “You’re not getting out again! You hear me in there?!” I yelled with one more strike against the metal and it finally settled down. Damn, I looked down at my hand and saw that I had cut it on one of the many bolts holding the door together. Grumbling I climbed the stairs and looked back down toward the door that shined silver in the light from the kitchen, the door had visibly been pushed out a small amount. It had never hit the door this hard before, with that last thought I threw the cellar door shut and locked it tightly with the one of the keys that hung around my neck.
Taking a deep breath I trudged up the old servant’s staircase to the fourth floor and my privet rooms, trying no to think about what would happen if the cellar door opened and wondering how much sleep I could get before my friend Nixa to come over to make dinner for me like she did most nights.
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