Desolation Row

Gerard awoke in the early hours of the morning to the sound of beeping monitors and the strong stench of bleach in a white washed room. As his eyes fluttered open, he saw Frank sitting by his bedside; red eyed with a face full of worry. “Gerard? Oh my god thank god you’re awake!” He cried, taking hold of his hand. Gerard offered him a thin smile. Squeezing his hand, he opened his mouth to speak. Frank put a finger to his lips, shaking his head. “Try not to speak, you’ve been through enough tonight” He said soothingly. For a moment, he had forgotten. The memories of what happened seemed to have vanished from existence. He lied there, listening to the clock tick away the endless seconds, minuets, hours, looking around at the four walls of the ICU that surrounded him. White washed walls, decorated with health posters and pictures of brightly coloured landscapes were scattered among the walls, almost demanding attention; perhaps to distracted people from the fact that they were never going to see the outside world again.

Gerard watched as the light at his bedside began to flicker, the sight of it stung his eyes. Frank offered him a weak smile, brushing a strand of red hair out of his bloodshot eyes.He hated seeing him like this. Year after year, he would always end up walking through the double doors of the hospital ward to visit Mikey or Gerard. Most of the time it wasn’t a major injury; a bruise or a cut, maybe a fractured arm or ligament; something small which the nurse would simply clean, bandage and send them on their way. But sometimes, when their father had abandoned them after a heated row, Frank would fine himself waiting by their bedside, holding their hand through the night until finally woke up and he knew that they were ok. But this time was different. This time, there was no father waiting for Gerard at home or sitting nervously in the waiting room. This time, Gerard had died. For 8 minutes, he lied on a hospital bed while doctors fought for him; pounding on his small, pale chest in the hope of getting him to breathe.

“Where’s my dad” Gerard croaked, his voice was hoarse. He raised a hand around his neck, a sharp pain ripping through throat as he spoke. Frank quickly got him a drink of water, bringing the cold plastic cup to his dry, cracked lips. He sipped it carefully, trying to choke himself. He opened his mouth to speak but Frank quickly interrupted, leaving the plastic cup on beside table. “We’ll talk about it later, the lads are outside. I’ll just go and get them” He said softly, kissing him on the forehead as he left; clicking the door shut behind him. He grinned to himself, lying back against the crisp, white sheets as he closed his eyes.

Frank stood for a moment, looking through the window to watch him sleep. Tubes fed in and out of his small pale body, he looked so helpless. He felt something buzz in his pocket and took his phone from his pocket, checking the message his sister sent him four hours ago: Frank it’s me, please call me I’m worried about you x. He dialled her number, waiting nervously on the line until the frantic voice of a woman picked up on the other end. “Frank! Where the hell are you?” the voice shouted. “Lindsey I’m fine... I’m at the hospital again” He said quietly, looking back at Gerard, who was still sleeping peacefully. “Is he alright?” She asked her voice growing calm.Frank sighed, unsure of what to say. How could he possibly explain to her about Mikey, the questions from the police and the murder of Gerard’s dad? She would worry. She always did. “Not this time, I need you Lind’s, please?” He replied, listening to her move on the other side of the phone. “I’m on my way, I’ll be there as soon as I can I promise” She said, jingling keys into a door before ending the call.
*****
He couldn’t escape. The nightmare just wouldn’t end. Everything came flooding back in one merciless sweep. Hot tears streaming from his eyes as the memories mercilessly dragged across his mind. The cold fingers that wrapped around his throat, tightening their grip as his father stared into his eyes; watching him choke and struggle like a dying animal. He remembered Mikey, the night before he died. Guilt filling his head, making him sick to the stomach. He remembered a 16 year old boy with large, beautiful brown eyes and blonde hair with sides shaved. He wore his black skinny jeans and grey polo shirt with the old black converse that their mother had bought him for their birthday. Their father had gone ballistic over coffee he had accidently spilled over the dining table and Mikey stood in the corner of the dining room, his head hung low as his father screamed at him. “I’m sorry dad” he murmured. His father raged at him, striking him across the face with a large fist, knocking him to the floor. He heard his father say something, something he couldn’t quite hear... or perhaps something he didn’t want to remember. “No please, please don’t! Please” Mikey cried as his father knelt beside him, pinning Mikey’s arms against the floor as Mikey screamed at Gerard to help, begged him to help him. Only this time, he just walked away.

Gerard’s eyes snapped open, beating his fist against his chest and head. “Why him! Why him! He screamed, pulling out the various wires that were attached to his body. An alarm went off and two nurses quickly rushed into the room. A young Hispanic girl, no older than 23 held down his arms while a red head girl, dressed in a white lab coat and a suit, carried a large needle, attempting to push it into his arm. He lashed out, hitting one of them. She yelled out, he didn’t look to see if she was ok, he didn’t care. “I should have died!” he screamed at the nurses, who were still struggling to sedate him. “My father should have killed me when he had the chance.” He cried, feeling the red headed nurse tug at him arm and push the needle deep under his skin. Suddenly the world suddenly grew faint, he felt himself relax against the warm sheets of the bed as he closed his eyes; sending him off into a world far away from here.
*****
Patrick stood in the elevator, sipping his fourth cup of coffee as he held it tightly in his hands. The elevator creaks going up and he finds himself examining the blue elevator certificate. The certificate makes it clear that the elevator is safe; creaks or no creaks. Dark rings ghosted under his eyes as he struggled to stay awake. He rested his head in his hand, gingerly rubbing his temples. He hated hospitals, especially this one. The elevator door opened to the waiting room of Harlow Hospital’s IUD and he steps out, glancing at his watch; the time had just turned 3AM. This is the older wing of the hospital and it smelt like the sweet smelling sawdust they pour over puke at school fates. He sat down in one of the blue plastic chairs, taking a sip of the coffee; its bitter sweet taste seemed almost heavenly.

Since Mikey had opened up to him about the horrific “incidents” at home and... The day he died, Patrick had hoped that he wouldn’t have to return to another hospital for some time. He smirked. “Back again, might as well rent a room here” he thought to himself. He looked down the hall, wondering how long Frank and Pete would take with the police. He was the first to be questioned. “How was Gerard’s home life?” “Has the Way family been known to have any enemies? “Did you see who murdered Mr Way?” the police officer seemed to ask him endless questions that didn’t seem to make sense to him. He tapped his foot, impatiently waiting for his friends to come back; his nerves getting the better of him. “Nobody would kill an entire family... people don’t do that” He thought, trying to calm himself.He glanced back up the hall; the boys were still talking to the police. A hand touched him on the shoulder, making him jump. He jumped out of his seat and quickly turned around. He stood there facing Pete, a lighter in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other. He slipped the cigarettes into the pocket of the grey hoodie he was wearing, offering Patrick a watery grin.

“Where the hell did you go?” Patrick asked, looking up the corridor and back to Pete. Pete shrugged, “I needed a fag” He replied, sitting down. He sat slumped in the embrace of the black leather arm chair while he gathered his thoughts together, rubbing his temples impatiently. The morning had been a nightmare. The panic that had risen after Gerard died for nearly 10 minutes in that hospital bed, Question after question from the police and, perhaps the worst part of this hellish summer morning, was the fact that the police has suspected that someone had broken in and murdered Mr Way.

“What’s wrong?” Patrick asked, sitting beside him, trying to catch his eye. He said nothing, his eyes fixed on the blue, plastic floor tiles. He didn’t want to get him involved. He knew what Patrick was like, he worried too much for his own good and he didn’t want to put him through it. He cared too much about him to leave him with that burden. He looked up, catching the eye of a pretty blonde intern as he eyed her up and down; her green eyes locked onto him as she passed by, offering him a cheeky wink. “I’ll be having that hoodie back soon” She joked, rolling up the sleeves of her scrubs as she wandered down the hall. Pete grinned, looking over at Patrick; a solemn expression upon his face. Pete nudged him on the arm, “She’s not my type” He said, giggling to himself. Patrick looked at him, his face light up. He looked into Pete’s dark eyes, feeling his hand slide onto his leg.

The sudden sound of an alarm tore through the ICU, startling the boys. They watched as Doctor’s rushed into Gerard’s room, dragging in various medical equipment. They ran to the window of the room, watching as the doctors fought for his life once again. “NO!” Patrick cried, banging on the glass. Security came and began to drag them away but they fought back, shouting to know what was happening, what was wrong with their friend as they were dragged away. “Get your fucking hands off him!” Pete cried as a man grabbed Patrick and forced him into a lift. A doctor quickly came out of the room, his face grave. “What’s going on” Pete said, his face red with anger. The doctor signalled the Security men and they backed off. The boys stood there, rubbing their arms as they waited impatiently to hear the news from the doctor.

“Perhaps we should wait for your friend first” He said quietly, looking over their shoulders to Frank who had left the room with the police officer by his side. As he came closer, the boys noticed the tear stains on his pale face. “What’s wrong? Is Gerard ok?” He asked quietly, his voice was trembling. The doctor shook his head, folding his hands together he looked at each of the boys as he broke the news.

“I’m sorry, but we did everything we could... He didn’t make it” The doctor said, watching silently the boys shock struck the faces of the boys, realising that their world was beginning to crumble around them.

Notes

Feel free to leave a comment and rate this; sorry this is a bit crap, Ive been so busy with exams that I rushed it.