Kill me or make me feel alive
Drenched in my pain again (1/2)
Chapter 6
Gerard’s POV
A few weeks have passed by quickly after mine and Frank’s date, if you can call it that, and we haven’t seen each other since then. Well, it may or may not be due to the fact I caught a pretty bad cold after I came back home and it had me chained to the bed for some time. Mikey’s being acting normal, mom and dad still don’t acknowledge my existence, talking to me only when necessary and avoiding all sort of conversations about my sexuality. I kind of started accepting the situation, though.
I’ve thought a lot about Frank and my obvious feelings for him. If someone asked me why I like him, I honestly can’t point even one good reason, except the fact he looks gorgeous. I mean, not that it’s unimportant, but I’m sure that’s not the main thing I see in him. It’s deeper and stronger than that, but I can’t tell what it is. But the thing is, in an ugly world, where I can’t find any beauty and nothing really catches my eye in a good way, I find him interesting, and I like him…although he’s a vampire.
I am now lying on the carpet in mine and Mikey’s room, staring at the ceiling and blasting Green Day. It’s a stupid habit to lie on the ground while listening to music, since I can just lie on my bed, but I always do it, it seems to calm me somehow. Mikey’s out with some friends but my parents are both home. They won’t bother telling me if they’re going out, though. Ah, well…
It’s a cold and rainy evening and all the windows are closed, since I really don’t fancy the idea of being sick again, it seriously sucks when you’re so ill that you can’t even get out of bed. I usually like bad weather and all, but today something’s different. Every thunder scares the shit out of me and I’m quite anxious without a reason. Even music doesn’t seem to help so I stop it and after a couple of minutes, I hear hushed voices in the corridor.
I wonder why my parents are talking so quietly and curiosity gets the better of me, so I go to the door and listen carefully, trying to hear them. I catch the words ‘passed away’ and ‘tell him’, followed by ‘Mikey can’ and ‘you tell him’. Oh, I’m definitely curious now. Damn, why can’t I hear them properly? Double damn, why can’t I talk to them? Ugh, who passed away? I don’t even have the time to think about all these things, because I hear footsteps nearing my room and I quickly jump on my bed and try to look as normal as possible.
After a second or two, the door opens and I see mom. Of course it’s mom. Dad can’t even look at me and it’s mainly mom who talks to me most of the time, even though she avoids me, too. Damn, what is so important that they break the unwritten rule to act like I don’t even exist? What’s making mom look so nervous and why are her eyes so red and swollen? Has she been crying? Oh, god…
She opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, looking kinda like a fish and it would be honestly amusing if she didn’t look like shit. I find myself worrying and I can’t stop myself from speaking first.
“H-hey mom… um… what’s- what’s up?”, I ask lamely, mentally scolding myself for being so awkward with my own mother.
“Gerard…Gerard, I need to tell you something, well… I don’t know how to say this and… I…”, she starts, but quickly her eyes water and a tear escapes her eye. Fuck, my parents usually don’t take things emotional, what the fuck happened that’s so bad and made her cry?
I would’ve gone to her and hug her, because whatever’s bothering her, it starts bothering me as well because it’s making her sad, but what can I do, she’ll probably push me off, telling me she doesn’t want a fag like me to hug her. Well, she’s never called me a ‘fag’ before, but I’ve heard dad call me that when he’s talking with mom and she never says anything to defend me, so I guess it’s the same, isn’t it?
“W-what happened?”, I push.
“Well, um, I, she, I…your…your grandma was taken to th-the hospital and passed away yesterday and, I-I’m sorry, Gerard”, she says, wiping the tears off her face quickly. But…what is she saying? No, this can’t be…
I stare at her for a good half minute, trying to understand what she’s telling me. It is like she talks in a foreign language, really.
“Gerard?”, I hear her say but all I do is flick my gaze to the floor, not really looking at it.
“W-which one?”, I ask quietly, hoping with all my heart it is not…
“It’s E-Elena, Gerard, I’m so sorry”, she interrupts my pointless praying and the news finally sink in my head. My favorite person, my role model, my sweet, loving grandma is…is dead.
“No”, I whisper, not being able to use my voice anymore. She stands by the door awkwardly, trying to say something once again, but failing.
I suddenly feel claustrophobic. Like the room is getting smaller and smaller with each ragged breath I take and the ceiling is getting lower and lower. Like my lungs can’t work anymore and the room is running out of air. Like my mom’s piercing eyes are boring a hole in my head just like a bullet would do. Like the world is shattering down in countless little pieces in the blink of an eye and no one can turn back time or fix it. I run to the window and open it wide, not really knowing what I’m doing, just acting on my instincts.
I finally look at her, not finding what I need right now. She’s insecure and weak and I can’t stand being here anymore.
“You two took a whole day to tell me because neither one of you wanted to speak to me. Perhaps you thought ‘why should we tell him? he’s a fag and he doesn’t deserve to know’”, I tell her quietly, surprisingly calm but still bitter. She just stands there, staring at me with wide eyes, not saying a single word. I really need to get out. Right now. I’m suffocating.
I just shake my head bitterly at her, my eyes void of any emotion. I go to the coat-stand in the corner of my room and take my ridiculously bright yellow raincoat, putting it on. She looks at me the whole time and she doesn’t say anything. I walk past her and open the front door. This is when she finally speaks.
“W-where are you going?”
“Do you really care?”, I slam the door behind me, not waiting for an answer.
As soon as the heavy rain pours down on me and a light flashes in the dark cloudy sky, I know where I want to be. I don’t even care why anymore. If I don’t go there I’m sure I’m going to lose my mind so I run with all my strength and speed, trying to remember the way.
Gerard’s POV
A few weeks have passed by quickly after mine and Frank’s date, if you can call it that, and we haven’t seen each other since then. Well, it may or may not be due to the fact I caught a pretty bad cold after I came back home and it had me chained to the bed for some time. Mikey’s being acting normal, mom and dad still don’t acknowledge my existence, talking to me only when necessary and avoiding all sort of conversations about my sexuality. I kind of started accepting the situation, though.
I’ve thought a lot about Frank and my obvious feelings for him. If someone asked me why I like him, I honestly can’t point even one good reason, except the fact he looks gorgeous. I mean, not that it’s unimportant, but I’m sure that’s not the main thing I see in him. It’s deeper and stronger than that, but I can’t tell what it is. But the thing is, in an ugly world, where I can’t find any beauty and nothing really catches my eye in a good way, I find him interesting, and I like him…although he’s a vampire.
I am now lying on the carpet in mine and Mikey’s room, staring at the ceiling and blasting Green Day. It’s a stupid habit to lie on the ground while listening to music, since I can just lie on my bed, but I always do it, it seems to calm me somehow. Mikey’s out with some friends but my parents are both home. They won’t bother telling me if they’re going out, though. Ah, well…
It’s a cold and rainy evening and all the windows are closed, since I really don’t fancy the idea of being sick again, it seriously sucks when you’re so ill that you can’t even get out of bed. I usually like bad weather and all, but today something’s different. Every thunder scares the shit out of me and I’m quite anxious without a reason. Even music doesn’t seem to help so I stop it and after a couple of minutes, I hear hushed voices in the corridor.
I wonder why my parents are talking so quietly and curiosity gets the better of me, so I go to the door and listen carefully, trying to hear them. I catch the words ‘passed away’ and ‘tell him’, followed by ‘Mikey can’ and ‘you tell him’. Oh, I’m definitely curious now. Damn, why can’t I hear them properly? Double damn, why can’t I talk to them? Ugh, who passed away? I don’t even have the time to think about all these things, because I hear footsteps nearing my room and I quickly jump on my bed and try to look as normal as possible.
After a second or two, the door opens and I see mom. Of course it’s mom. Dad can’t even look at me and it’s mainly mom who talks to me most of the time, even though she avoids me, too. Damn, what is so important that they break the unwritten rule to act like I don’t even exist? What’s making mom look so nervous and why are her eyes so red and swollen? Has she been crying? Oh, god…
She opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, looking kinda like a fish and it would be honestly amusing if she didn’t look like shit. I find myself worrying and I can’t stop myself from speaking first.
“H-hey mom… um… what’s- what’s up?”, I ask lamely, mentally scolding myself for being so awkward with my own mother.
“Gerard…Gerard, I need to tell you something, well… I don’t know how to say this and… I…”, she starts, but quickly her eyes water and a tear escapes her eye. Fuck, my parents usually don’t take things emotional, what the fuck happened that’s so bad and made her cry?
I would’ve gone to her and hug her, because whatever’s bothering her, it starts bothering me as well because it’s making her sad, but what can I do, she’ll probably push me off, telling me she doesn’t want a fag like me to hug her. Well, she’s never called me a ‘fag’ before, but I’ve heard dad call me that when he’s talking with mom and she never says anything to defend me, so I guess it’s the same, isn’t it?
“W-what happened?”, I push.
“Well, um, I, she, I…your…your grandma was taken to th-the hospital and passed away yesterday and, I-I’m sorry, Gerard”, she says, wiping the tears off her face quickly. But…what is she saying? No, this can’t be…
I stare at her for a good half minute, trying to understand what she’s telling me. It is like she talks in a foreign language, really.
“Gerard?”, I hear her say but all I do is flick my gaze to the floor, not really looking at it.
“W-which one?”, I ask quietly, hoping with all my heart it is not…
“It’s E-Elena, Gerard, I’m so sorry”, she interrupts my pointless praying and the news finally sink in my head. My favorite person, my role model, my sweet, loving grandma is…is dead.
“No”, I whisper, not being able to use my voice anymore. She stands by the door awkwardly, trying to say something once again, but failing.
I suddenly feel claustrophobic. Like the room is getting smaller and smaller with each ragged breath I take and the ceiling is getting lower and lower. Like my lungs can’t work anymore and the room is running out of air. Like my mom’s piercing eyes are boring a hole in my head just like a bullet would do. Like the world is shattering down in countless little pieces in the blink of an eye and no one can turn back time or fix it. I run to the window and open it wide, not really knowing what I’m doing, just acting on my instincts.
I finally look at her, not finding what I need right now. She’s insecure and weak and I can’t stand being here anymore.
“You two took a whole day to tell me because neither one of you wanted to speak to me. Perhaps you thought ‘why should we tell him? he’s a fag and he doesn’t deserve to know’”, I tell her quietly, surprisingly calm but still bitter. She just stands there, staring at me with wide eyes, not saying a single word. I really need to get out. Right now. I’m suffocating.
I just shake my head bitterly at her, my eyes void of any emotion. I go to the coat-stand in the corner of my room and take my ridiculously bright yellow raincoat, putting it on. She looks at me the whole time and she doesn’t say anything. I walk past her and open the front door. This is when she finally speaks.
“W-where are you going?”
“Do you really care?”, I slam the door behind me, not waiting for an answer.
As soon as the heavy rain pours down on me and a light flashes in the dark cloudy sky, I know where I want to be. I don’t even care why anymore. If I don’t go there I’m sure I’m going to lose my mind so I run with all my strength and speed, trying to remember the way.
Notes
Note: I’m sorry it took so long, but hey- two chapterssss!Vote, subscribe, comment- let me know if you enjoy this. c:
Love, zombie--
I just started reading this today and I just wanted to say that it's amazing. :)
9/7/14