Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Early Sunsets
Solitude - VI
0 reviewsA wasted effort. One bullet lost to a man who had taken thirty from other survivors.
0Unrated
Gerard’s patience had run out. He was tired of waiting for something to happen.
They had all been afraid of him, afraid that he’d murder them. That’s why he hadn’t gone back. They had hidden because they didn’t want him to find them. They had left him, abandoned him, out in the wild, thinking he might die and they could be rid of the threat he carried wherever he went.
Gerard was almost sure they were dead. They weren’t like him; they couldn’t withstand thousands of years of silence and decades of warring. It was too much for the fragility of their species. Maybe humans were better off.
He wasn’t exactly sure who they were; he had long since misplaced the memories, but he knew they had been something important, maybe more important then he’d recognized at the time.
Therefore, Gerard kept avoiding them. If he even got close to where he knew they were living, he would turn around and go the opposite way. They didn’t want him.
The man motioned to Gerard's coat and shoes, and then to himself and the three items on the stone in front of him.
Gerard stared hard at the cigarettes on the rock. It was rare that he came across people at all, and even less, people who still had, or came across anything like this. Besides, he didn’t really need either of the garments.
He slipped off the items and tossed them to the man, snatching up the three boxes from the pile of not-so-worthless junk, turning his back to the dying clump of people. He didn’t even stop when someone else lifted their rifle and shot him in the chest.
A wasted effort. One bullet lost to a man who had taken thirty from other survivors. He was a legend, passed among the humans as a mirage or a myth. Someone who turned up, did the impossible, and was never seen again in the parts.
He held up a hand, continuing to walk. “Not today, boys.”
Gerard wasn’t to be fooled with. If people tried to assault him for the things he rightfully owned, there was no way they’d succeed. Unless, he let them on purpose. There were some cases he felt sorry for them; he really had no use for clothing or luxuries such as cigarettes. He could live an animal forever. His mind would get simpler until he became it, never having to think human thoughts again.
However, he couldn’t let that happen. He was a coward. He wanted to be able to see and hear things, draw them or just be able to have opinions. He knew what it was like to see things from different perspectives, and it opened his eyes. He wasn’t just Gerard anymore. He was Gerard and anything else he’d ever wanted to be. He had always been that way, and no one, not even anyone in his own tribe, had been like him. Well, no one he could actually remember. He was unique, and he couldn’t ruin that.
No one could.
They had all been afraid of him, afraid that he’d murder them. That’s why he hadn’t gone back. They had hidden because they didn’t want him to find them. They had left him, abandoned him, out in the wild, thinking he might die and they could be rid of the threat he carried wherever he went.
Gerard was almost sure they were dead. They weren’t like him; they couldn’t withstand thousands of years of silence and decades of warring. It was too much for the fragility of their species. Maybe humans were better off.
He wasn’t exactly sure who they were; he had long since misplaced the memories, but he knew they had been something important, maybe more important then he’d recognized at the time.
Therefore, Gerard kept avoiding them. If he even got close to where he knew they were living, he would turn around and go the opposite way. They didn’t want him.
The man motioned to Gerard's coat and shoes, and then to himself and the three items on the stone in front of him.
Gerard stared hard at the cigarettes on the rock. It was rare that he came across people at all, and even less, people who still had, or came across anything like this. Besides, he didn’t really need either of the garments.
He slipped off the items and tossed them to the man, snatching up the three boxes from the pile of not-so-worthless junk, turning his back to the dying clump of people. He didn’t even stop when someone else lifted their rifle and shot him in the chest.
A wasted effort. One bullet lost to a man who had taken thirty from other survivors. He was a legend, passed among the humans as a mirage or a myth. Someone who turned up, did the impossible, and was never seen again in the parts.
He held up a hand, continuing to walk. “Not today, boys.”
Gerard wasn’t to be fooled with. If people tried to assault him for the things he rightfully owned, there was no way they’d succeed. Unless, he let them on purpose. There were some cases he felt sorry for them; he really had no use for clothing or luxuries such as cigarettes. He could live an animal forever. His mind would get simpler until he became it, never having to think human thoughts again.
However, he couldn’t let that happen. He was a coward. He wanted to be able to see and hear things, draw them or just be able to have opinions. He knew what it was like to see things from different perspectives, and it opened his eyes. He wasn’t just Gerard anymore. He was Gerard and anything else he’d ever wanted to be. He had always been that way, and no one, not even anyone in his own tribe, had been like him. Well, no one he could actually remember. He was unique, and he couldn’t ruin that.
No one could.
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