Never Coming Home

Gerard's Pov

After a good hour of sitting there on the edge of my bed crying, I decided to suck it up. There is no use crying over things that we cannot change. Pouring salt water out of my eyes and onto my waistcoat will not bring Mikey back. It kills me to remember all the great times we had, knowing we can't have anymore. But I know a great thing to make me forget. A nice bottle of whiskey would be perfect right now. Of course, I haven't drank much since my high school days, but I feel as if I need a few gulps of the edible poison now more then ever.

I tripped over my feet a couple of times of my way to the door. It's difficult to multitask. Getting your jacket on as well and running toward a door is harder then it seems. I took a deep breath as I clasped my hand around the brass doorknob. With a twist and a pull I was exposed to the bitter cold of early spring in New Jersey. The beginning of the season of wind and rain. I stepped out onto my porch, pulling the door closed behind me.

I had a certain spring in my step and I walked toward the liquor store. I was eager to taste the harsh liquid running across my taste buds. I can tell you, when I set out toward the store, I didn't think I would end up face first, fallen on the snow. But apparently that's where I've gotten. It didn't happen quickly. It seemed to happen rather fluidly, the way I ended up on the still frozen ground. I know I tripped over something.

I picked myself up and brushed off some of the snow off my jacket. I spun around to see what I tripped on. I certainly didn't expect to see a woman. An un-conscience one at that. I stared for a couple seconds, until it clicked in my mind. I tripped over an un-conscience woman lying in the snow. I gasped as my eyes widened and stumbled a bit on my feet. I regained balance and thought quickly. I had to do something.

And I did do something. I picked up the un-conscience woman and brought her back to my house. I brought an un-conscience woman back to my house. Oh my.

Notes